


Anthony in Love

by The_Bentley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxiety, Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub is So Done (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Cats, Condoms, Crimes & Criminals, Crowley Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Demon Crowley (Good Omens), Eating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fights, Fire, First Dates, First Meetings, Flirting, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Guardian Angels, Head Injury, Healing, Hospitals, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Drug Use, In Supporting Characters Only, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Injury, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Moving In Together, Mugging, Multiverse, Oral Sex, Power Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Psychological Trauma, Rescue, Restaurants, Revenge, Shopping Malls, Smoking, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Students, Theft, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Vandalism, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 96,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley
Summary: Anthony stopped to watch him for a moment.  The blond bent over, showing off a rather nice arse in beige trousers, which Anthony could appreciate.  Still jiggling the key while he crouched over the mechanism, he couldn’t get the gate to budge.“Having trouble?”  Anthony called.The blond stood up, turning to show him the most beautiful blue eyes.  Anthony didn’t even know anything else about him, but he was already interested in those blue eyes and nice arse.  The blond smiled the sweetest smile in his direction; an arrow straight to his heart.Trust fund baby Anthony Crowley is required by his family to get a job to learn the value of actual work.  He expects a few months of boredom before quitting until forced into the next job.  He wasn't expecting to run into Aziraphale, who completely stole his heart.  And that's not all.  His fairly uneventful life is about to be turned upside-down by fires, abductions, and the meddling of an angel and a demon who are charged with keeping him and Aziraphale safe.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Beelzebub (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Beelzebub, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens), Crowley & Dagon (Good Omens), Gabriel & Sandalphon (Good Omens), Hastur & Ligur (Good Omens), Ligur & Michael (Good Omens), Ligur/Michael (Good Omens), Uriel & Gabriel & Sandalphon (Good Omens)
Comments: 225
Kudos: 333
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first human AU I've done with these two idiots (or any non-human idiots for that matter). Fingers crossed this goes well!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony Crowley has gotten himself another job, if only because his father demands it. But it has its perks, Aziraphale being one of them. Meanwhile, his sibling, Bee, has their own life struggles to deal with, having turned their nose up at receiving a portion of the family fortune.

“So, who’s the new guy?” asked Elizabeth as she put glasses under the fizzy drink taps to fill them with drinks for Table 21 then grabbed some bottled water. 

“Anthony Crowley, I think. He just walked in here a couple of weeks ago and Tony handed him a job without even interviewing him. Must be because they share a name.” Michael jabbed a glass under a tap, filling it with diet cola. “He’s worthless but gets the best tips and God knows the customers don’t fucking tip around here.”

Anthony, the new server in question, swaggered by to be thrust the diet cola by Michael. Looking down at it with surprise, he eventually took the glass. “Uh, thanks.”

“Get that to Table 17 now. We’re in the weeds here and nobody has time to do your fucking job for you.”

Elizabeth watched the young man walk off. “Odd eyes. Never seen ones so light hazel they’re almost yellow.”

She filled her tray with glasses and headed back out as Michael made a derisive noise and curled up her lip. Glaring towards the lanky redheaded server who was finally handing the customer their refill, she turned back to the kitchen where her latest order waited for her to take it out to her waiting table. She passed by Anthony, who was joking a bit with his table before he almost backed into her. An agile turn on her part kept her tray from being dumped down her white blouse, marinara sauce and all. She would never get the stains out of it if that had happened and management would have sent her home to change, causing her to lose hours and tips.

“Watch it!” she hissed.

“Yeah, you could just say you’re behind me, you know,” he replied as he went to pocket the tip from a table that just left, leaving the rest of the mess for the bussers to take care of. Most servers at least helped out by grabbing a few glasses.

Michael kept her temper in check and went about her business, getting her tables through the busiest times until the night wore down, finally dying down a half an hour before closing. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to Anthony again, but caught up with him as he was half-assedly wiping down a table before heading to the back to clock out. She followed him, keeping one step behind him because the slippery little snake was talented in slithering out unseen when people wanted a word with him. He noticed her as they reached the bakery.

“What’s up?”

“You owe me half the tip from Table 17. I practically waited on it for you, you lazy bastard.” The dark-haired girl stood in front of him fuming, tendrils of her hair hanging from her temples after escaping her slightly messy-looking ponytail. The evening had not been kind to any of the servers.

“It was assigned to me, Michael. You didn’t have to do a damn thing on it. I _was_ busy, but all you had to do was come say something to me instead of being a martyr.”

“This is ridiculous. You barely do a fucking thing around here. I can’t wait for the day when you wash out because management won’t put up with your crap anymore. New servers get to make mistakes, but one day you won’t have that excuse anymore.” Furious, she turned on her heel and stormed off. He might have been clocking off, but she had ketchup bottles to fill.

“That was a thing,” he muttered before punching out.

Walking out into the shopping centre, he slid his hands into his pockets and headed down towards the exit, thinking. He didn’t get more than a few steps before a screeching noise cut through his thoughts and he looked up to see the Bath Bombs and Beyond store nearby had its gate stuck halfway open while a pudgy young man in his early twenties fussed around with the lock that had to be turned to open and shut it.

“Oh, dear. Not again.”

Anthony stopped to watch him for a moment. The blond bent over, showing off a rather nice arse in beige trousers, which Anthony could appreciate. Still jiggling the key while he crouched over the mechanism, he couldn’t get the gate to budge. 

“Having trouble?” Anthony called.

The blond stood up, turning to show him the most beautiful blue eyes. Anthony didn’t even know anything else about him, but he was already interested in those blue eyes and nice arse. The blond smiled the sweetest in his direction; an arrow straight to his heart. 

_Shit. Calm down, Crowley. He might not even be into guys._

“You might say that. I believe this gate lives to be stubborn. But corporate won’t fix it.” The blond shrugged, looking positively angelic despite that stupid tartan bowtie he was wearing. All he needed was a waistcoat and suit jacket to look like an outdated professor. “Usually a little wiggle of the lock gets things going again.”

A little wiggle of that arse would get Anthony going. Coming to his senses, he smiled his dopiest smile at the beleaguered young man. “Yeah . . . those things can be hard. Can I try? I used to work up the way at . . . some clothing shop or another? I don’t know anymore. I think I’ve worked in every store in this blasted shopping centre. You know . . . retail . . . come for the corporate culture, stay for the overbearing customers.” He laughed lamely, suddenly feeling foolish. “Or not . . . Here, let me try. I’ve fought many a war with these kinds of gates.”

_That’s smooth, Crowley. Just babble at him._

Hiding his embarrassed look behind his shoulder-length hair that he had pulled out of his work-mandated ponytail, he took the keys from his conversation partner. Anthony noticed he smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. God, this guy _was_ going to slay him and he barely knew him.

Jiggled a little first to the right, then the left, the gate started to come down again. Anthony smiled at his success. Nothing like being a cute guy’s knight in shining armour, even if you were only fighting a gate, or had no idea if he was even into you.

“Oh, thank you!” the blond gushed taking back the keys and Anthony noticing for the first time his hair was curly. He also had clasped his hands over his heart in his gratitude before dropping them to his side again.

“Anytime. I’m Anthony Crowley, by the way. And you are?”

“Aziraphale Fell. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He had extended a well-moisturized hand to Anthony, who shook it. 

Yeah, he was getting gay vibes off Aziraphale here; maybe he had a chance. “That’s an unusual name.” 

“Old family name, I’m told.”

“It’s nice. Hey, I gotta get going. I work over at The Cheesecake Works, but it’s not bad. If you come by while I’m working, I can get you some cheesecake.”

“Thank you. That would be lovely.”

Trying not to blush, Anthony, mumbled about having to go again before heading off quickly. He bent his head to hide his face until he was out of Aziraphale’s line of sight, hitting the glass doors rather hard in his haste to exit the building and drive off away from that wonderfully blond angel before he made a further fool of himself. He climbed in his old Bentley, which was about twenty years old and nowhere near the vintage one he wanted, but sufficed for now – being a trust fund baby had its advantages. Having a father who wanted you to learn the value of a hard day’s work to keep getting said trust fund payments didn’t. 

_I can get you some cheesecake? Fuck, I’m such a dumbass._

Opening the glove compartment, he rummaged around for a pack of cigarettes, finding a half-full one. Yanking out a cig, he lit it and sat there in the car with the window open while he got his nicotine fix. He idly thought he should switch to vaping. The smell of second-hand smoke was going to start ruining the leather of the Bentley’s interior. 

Then his thoughts turned back to Aziraphale . . .

Inside, Aziraphale stood by the now-closed gate, gathering up the bag he brought where he stashed his packed lunch along with either a book to read on his breaks or his textbooks if he had homework to do. He was currently at uni studying Library Studies with the goal of being a librarian someday. His ultimate dream was to open his own bookshop sometime in the future, but that would have to wait for now. He was concentrating on getting his degree first.

At this moment he found himself wanting to get to know the redhead who helped him out. Anthony was it? He was rather attractive with his high cheekbones. His eyes were a rather unusual shade of almost yellow that intrigued Aziraphale and his smile seemed nice but mischievous when he showed it. And that hair . . . oh, goodness . . . that hair! Aziraphale found himself wishing he could brush it out then put it into any number of elaborate hairstyles only to take it out, rebrush it and do it all again.

_Quit being silly. He might not be attracted to guys._

Or he just might be. Aziraphale walked out the door and started for the bus stop, shouldering his bag. Maybe he’d check out The Cheesecake Works during his lunch breaks. Even just making a friend wouldn’t be a bad idea. He had so few of them.

Further up the shopping centre, the manager of Macabre, a decidedly goth-themed store, pulled down the gate to their shop and followed the same path as Anthony and Aziraphale to get to the car park. Down at the end of it sitting under a tall light making an annoying buzzing sound was their crappy Citroën C2 that was only running these days because of dumb luck. The poor thing should have rusted away into the earth several years ago. 

They passed by a 2000 Bentley Azure Mark I convertible, shiny black, looking like new and definitely out of place at a shopping centre. The driver’s side window was open and they approached it. The redheaded driver who sat there smoking gave them a wave.

“You pretentious bastard,” they said to him. “Only you would drive such a thing to a retail job. Dad make you get one again?”

“Yep. You should know. Two more years of this shit and the trust is mine, free and clear."

“While the rest of us keep working down in the mines having to put up with customer’s shit.”

“I never wanted it all to myself. Half that trust fund would have been yours had you not refused it." Anthony peered out at his sibling. “You should go to uni. You're smart and I said I’d pay for it. It's rightfully your money, too, and when Dad's out of the picture, I'll be happy to give you half.”

“I didn't want our grandparents' blood money or the strings Dad attached to it. I'll do it on my own. Can I borrow a smoke?” They felt ashamed asking for even that.

“I’d rather you didn’t give it back.” He handed one over to them along with a lighter. 

“Thanks. I’ll buy you some smokes Friday when I get paid.”

He waved that idea off. “Don’t worry about it. So, how’s life up at Macabre now that I don’t work there?”

“Same shit. Anyway, I got to get home and let the dog out. You know my flatmate won’t have done it.”

Anthony threw his dog-end on the pavement. Fixing Bee with a stare he shook his head. “I don’t know why you signed a lease with Ligur. Laziest cunt to grace this city. If you need out, let me know. You can crash at my place.”

“I’m not staying in Mayfair.”

“Suit yourself.”

They held up two fingers in a rude gesture as they stalked off to their sorry excuse of a car, puffing on the cigarette the entire time. 

Beatrice Beel (their mother's maiden name), better know as just “Bee” among friends and coworkers, and “Beelzebub” to those who disliked them (and had been at the wrong end of their explosive temper) sighed, pushed their black chin-length hair out of their eyes and got in the car, praying it would start. Cerberus was waiting for them and with any luck, hadn’t peed on the rug yet. Hearing the car cough to life, they pulled out of the car park, speeding off towards the small flat they shared with Ligur. It wasn’t a lease they wanted to sign, but their so-called raise for being promoted to manager wasn’t as much as promised.

They unlocked the door to find the boxer was excited to see them. The rug before the flat’s door, his usual spot for letting loose, was dry. Cerberus was let out to do what he needed to, Bee waiting around for him to get done when they really wanted to go to bed.

They entered the living room upon letting the dog back in from the postage-stamp-sized garden that came with their building. Bryan Ligur, better known to everyone as just Ligur, sat on the couch wearing that ratty beanie he always wore with a chameleon stitched on the cuff. His dishes from dinner still sat on the coffee table with a pile of comic books and empty energy drink cans. He was caught up in some video game, the headphones he was wearing indicating he was involved in online play.

Bee passed him by with a roll of their eyes. “Fortnite is for fourteen-year-olds. Do you really like playing against schoolboys? It doesn’t seem like much of a challenge.”

“Just shut it. My squad’s doing well here. I don’t have time for you.”

“I’m not staying,” they replied as they headed off to their bedroom, Cerberus in tow. 

Flopping on their bed, they pulled out their phone and looked through a few apps before drifting off into thought. Maybe getting out of this miserable place would be well worth it and not just a side step into more of the same aggravations. They sighed and looked over towards the wall where Cerberus sat. He took that as an invitation to join them on the bed, licking their hand before lying down at the foot of it. The dog gazed at them with an inquisitive look complete with forehead wrinkles and that cute head tilt of his. They smiled at him.

“We’ll go to the park tomorrow. I have the day off.”

Turning off their light and putting their phone on its charger, they pulled up the blankets and went to sleep. It had been a long day and morning would come early. Cerberus would need to be let out then fed in eight hours or so. Maybe this time he’d let them sleep in for a few hours. 

In a flat above an old bookshop he adored on the edge of Soho, Aziraphale hummed to himself as he made a cup of tea before settling down to get a bit of studying in. That Anthony sure was lovely, wasn’t he, for getting the store’s gate all sorted out. Aziraphale would have had to call the manager and he knew Gloria did not like to be bothered on her nights off. She had just forgiven him for having to call last month when the whole computer system went down thanks to some glitch in the new software the company had installed. She had reminded him constantly for weeks that she had had to come in on a day off and spend hours on the phone with the IT department trying to get the problem solved then hopefully reboot the system successfully. And she didn’t have IT experience. And she was doing it without getting paid for her time. So it would be nice if Aziraphale didn’t fuck things up again, she had told him.

Adding milk and sugar to his tea, he stirred everything then sat with a textbook at the kitchen table where he read the assigned chapters while taking a copious amount of notes he fussily arranged in an outline he could study for exams before turning in for the night. Tomorrow he had classes followed by a shift at work.

He spent the night dreaming of Anthony with his high cheekbones, red hair and extremely light hazel eyes. 

Across the city, Anthony, who was living in the ritzy Mayfair flat left to him by his grandmother, stood out on his balcony smoking the last cigarette of the night and thinking endlessly about the pudgy little blond who had stolen his heart. Aziraphale? Was that his name? Who names their kid that? 

_Eh, we all have our crosses to bear_.

He flicked the finished cigarette in the ashtray he kept out there only because he nearly started a fire once. He used to lazily throw them on the balcony floor and step on them until he thought they were out, except one time it wasn’t. Oops. The neighbours weren’t too happy with him already. Burning the place to the ground wouldn’t have improved that. Sometimes he did hope the wind would carry some ash down to the balcony of the old woman who lived downstairs. She was up at his door complaining if he walked too loudly.

“Your grandmother was never noisy.”

“Yeah, well . . . I guess she walked on air, didn’t she? Sorry gravity affects me to the point that my feet have to make contact with the carpet.” 

He had shut the door in her face with a very satisfying slam. She hadn’t been back since. Point to Anthony, but he knew the game wasn’t over yet. She’d be banging on his door with another complaint within the month he figured.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Stalking to the plant room, he checked on all his grandmother’s houseplants. She had taught him everything she knew about growing them and he had kept them alive and healthy in the three years since she died. Inspecting the dampness of the soil, he picked up the half-full watering can he kept stashed behind the pots and took care of a few dry ones.

“There you go. That should do it for now,” he said. “God, I’m talking to plants. What is the matter with me?”

He wandered into the bedroom he had decorated with sleek modern furniture in dark woods. Stripping down to nothing, he slipped under the grey and black covers of the bed and fell asleep on his satin sheets. All night Anthony dreamed on and off of the Bath Bombs and Beyond assistant manager, Aziraphale’s blue eyes prominent in every dream he had. He awoke the next morning to poke a little fun at himself for getting tied up in a guy he’d met once.

Tying his stupidly patterned work tie that he’d rather not be wearing, Anthony headed down the lift to the Bentley for another shift at the restaurant. The aspiring hedonist was once again finding the daily grind of a job an annoying burden he must bear for now. Sighing, he started the car and sped off to the shopping centre.


	2. Cheesecake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee has an encounter with Gabriel, who runs the shop next door. Aziraphale's day at work isn't going well, but he takes Anthony up on his offer of cheesecake and ends up agreeing to have coffee with him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel purposely misgenders Bee because he's a jerk like that. And be prepared for crappy customers and shitty bosses because we're going to encounter them. 😂

“Is there a senior discount?” asked a woman too old to be in this shop buying Pop figures.

Bee rolled their eyes. “You are kidding me,” they muttered under their breath. Out loud they said, “No. Our company does not offer such a discount.” As she rang up the purchase she muttered to herself. "They now want a discount for not being dead yet. Jesus Christ.”

The woman didn’t seem to notice the sarcastic remarks. Bee fake smiled as they thrust the bag upon the woman.

“Do you do giftwrapping? This is for my granddaughter’s birthday.”

“No, we don’t. You’ve paid, now you’re holding up the line. Thank you. Have a nice day, ma’am. Who’s next?”

“So, how’s it going?” It was just Anthony. He was on break, his work uniform tie undone for now. “Want to hire me back?” He leaned casually on the counter his elbows jutting out at awkward-looking angles.

“No. You can’t fold shirts worth a shit and you’re rubbish at ringing up customers.” Bee angrily returned to folding the shirts located mid-store where they could keep an eye on the till. 

Crowley casually followed them.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” they growled over the thumping music.

“No, I’m on my lunch and I’m still deciding if I want to go flirt with the cute little assistant manager at Bath Bombs and Beyond.”

“Aziraphale is it? I think? I know him on sight and I doubt you’re his type. I think he’s more likely to pick someone up at a library. You never were into nerds. He’s like some kind of old-fashioned version of that.” Bee laughed at him as they smoothed down a shirt, stuffing it back on its proper shelf. “I’m sure in Victorian times the guys at those gay underground gentlemen’s clubs would have found him most dashing.”

Anthony opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the appearance of the manager from the suit shop next door. Young and dressed to kill in a light grey cashmere suit with a lavender tie that complimented his deep blue eyes, he looked ready to commit murder as a cowed Macabre employee pointed him towards Bee. Soon he was towering over them like a handsome male Karen, the anger evident on his face. Anthony melted into the background to watch the show he knew was coming. Discreetly getting out his phone, he prepared to get video of the fireworks that were going to go off any minute now.

“Yes?” asked Bee coldly.

“Your music is too loud. It is vibrating the shared wall and disturbing my clients. I am asking you once again to turn it down.”

“And once again, Gabriel, I’m telling you it’s set at the level corporate requires. Take it up with them because my hands are tied.”

“Shall I complain to property management?” he growled, leaning in close to their face.

“Please do if it gets you out of my shop. You’re scaring off the customers with your stupid American looks. Go back to where you came from.”

He jabbed a finger at them. “I don’t need to take this from some angry goblin who looks like she pulled her clothes out of a dumpster.”

Bee’s version of goth clothing involved distressed shirt and ripped jeans, usually in black, but occasionally there was a hint of red in there and maybe some white at times.

“Use my proper pronouns!”

“I will when you get some.”

“Get out of my store!” Now they were angry. The shirts were flying as they pulled them off the shelves to hurl at Gabriel. 

Anthony watched in amusement as Gabriel dodged clothing before turning on his heel to march out. The thrown shirts fluttered uselessly to the ground as Anthony, grinning, kept his phone pointed in their direction.

“That was a stupid idea,” Gabriel taunted as he left. “You just created yourself a mess to clean up.” He laughed that annoying laugh of his as he strode cockily back to his own shop.

“Bastard,” muttered Bee, bending over to pick up rumpled t shirts off the floor. She looked up at Anthony. “Be somewhere else!”

He quickly saw himself out, Bee coming to a realization before running after him.

“You better not have video of that!”

Grinning, he stared down at his iPhone as he headed back to work. What Bee didn’t know wouldn’t end up hurting him and the incident meant this day was really starting to go better. He had about fifteen minutes to spare before he had to clock on. Without really thinking about it he wandered into the Bath Bombs and Beyond and looked around for a certain curly blond head. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Anthony! What a nice surprise to see you again.” 

Anthony scratched the back of his neck, trying not to blush. “Hi, Aziraphale. How’s it going?”

“Oh, not bad. It hasn’t been too busy today so I’ve been able to sneak some studying in on the side.” Aziraphale gave him a wonderful smile.

He was busy facing product as he talked, lining up bottles of strongly scented lotions and body wash so that they stood in straight lines organized by scent, the lotions to the right of the body washes. A rainbow of bottles with labels full of fruits and flowers filled the display table before him. He stepped back to glance at it critically, arms crossed, before straightening a bottle or two like a perfectionist.

“I’m on break in about half an hour,” he said to Anthony. “Will you be available?” The blond flushed. “I wouldn’t mind sampling some of your café’s cheesecake.”

Struck speechless, Anthony stared at him a moment trying his best to not let wordless noises escape his throat. “Uh . . . umm . . . yeah . . .” He pointed to the uniform, undone tie and all. “I’m off break soon. But if you sit over on the side over by the east windows, that’s my area to wait on. I can at least get you what you want.”

“That would be lovely.” There was that smile again, showing up like a freaking ray of sunshine.

“Ok . . . yeah . . . I’ll see you then.” Anthony beat a hasty retreat before he did anything else incredibly stupid.

Aziraphale turned back to his work, not noticing his manager approaching.

“I’d appreciate it if you actually worked while on the clock. You can socialize on your own time,” she said. 

Gloria Uriel was a no-nonsense woman in her thirties who was not happy she constantly got passed over for promotion for district manager positions. She was convinced it was because of her race, gender or both and in many cases, those would have been valid reasons for suspecting one was stuck as general manager of a small store in a boring shopping centre, but the truth was her own bully-like attitude and inability to retain staff kept her from being promoted to a bigger store or corporate offices. The higher-ups hoped she’d get the hint she really wasn’t Bath Bombs and Beyond material and just move on to another career. So far she remained clueless.

“I’ll keep my mind on my work, sorry, Gloria.” Aziraphale gave her a small, nervous smile and got to work on the next table of goods that had been picked over by today’s crowds. 

Having straightened everything in sight and helped a couple of young women in choosing just the right fragrance of body lotion, he headed to the backroom to check in the inventory that arrived today. That was technically Gloria’s job, but her high opinion of herself was that she had much better things to do than performing managerial duties. Right now she was sitting at her desk in her makeshift office in the corner texting a friend of hers. Aziraphale covertly shot her an annoyed look, but go on with it, checking boxes and noting their contents on the shipping papers. They were missing one shipment of bath bombs, but the rest had arrived.

Signing the papers after he wrote down the missing merchandise, he took them to Gloria’s desk, tossing them there off to the side for her to deal with. “We received everything but the lotus blossom bath bombs. I’m going on break now. I should have gone an hour ago.”

“Fine. Thirty minutes, not a second more.”

Rushing off out of the store, he made for the Cheesecake Works, entering and looking for the lanky redhead who was waiting tables. The hostess approached him, a smiled plastered painfully across her face.

“Welcome to The Cheesecake Works! How many?”

“Just me,” he saw the look she gave him and shrugged. “I’m on break. Just wanted some cheesecake. Can I sit over by the windows, please?”

“Sure! I believe we have two tables free over there. Follow me, please!”

Winding their way through the restaurant, she seated him at a small table by a window looking out over the car park with a partial view of the patio in the way. Two kids at the table on the other side of the glass stared at him. One knocked on the glass; Aziraphale ignored her, not wanting to get her into trouble with her parents or anything. He was right not to respond. Her mother spoke sharply to her, her voice carrying through the window to him.

“Helll-ooo, Aziraphale. Nice of you to join us. Did the boss keep you busy?”

He looked up to see Anthony smiling down at him, hands shoved in his half-apron’s pocket. He smiled back, genuine this time unlike the faked smiles he gave Gloria or unruly customers. 

“Well, yes. I had to check in the week’s shipment. So, what’s good here?”

Anthony shrugged. “No clue. It’s like I’ve eaten the entire menu or anything. But you can’t go wrong with a burger, right? A good old American-style burger, topped with cheese, lettuce and everything. That country’s a mess, but they do know their fast food.”

Aziraphale looked around the crowded dining room. “That does sound good, but you’re busy and I’m thinking it’ll take a while to get my order. I only have half an hour.”

“Cheesecake it is, then. The new fudge swirl one they just came out with is good.”

“Ok, I’ll try that. And just some bottled water, please. I don’t think tea goes well with cheesecake.”

“As you wish. And really, you should be drinking something other than tea. What are you? Eighty?” Anthony winked and disappeared.

Aziraphale’s smile followed him until the young man disappeared then he concentrated on his thoughts as he fidgeted with his hands nervously. Anthony seemed so put together and extraverted. Why would he have any interest in an introverted uni student who dressed like an English lecturer? Aziraphale sighed, then startled as a bottle of water was placed in front of him.

“Oh, that was quick. Thank you.”

Anthony gave him one of those dazzling smiles and hurried off. “I’ll have that cheesecake to you in just a minute.”

Opening his water, Aziraphale took some nervous sips and tried to calm his nerves. Anthony was just another person, no need to get all hot and bothered over him. Ok, he was cute, had a wonderful smile, was nice to Aziraphale and seemed genuinely interested in him. 

And that arse. He had watched Anthony walk away with that swagger that seemed to hint at the world’s most flexible hips and watched that bum move the entire time. It was enough to make Aziraphale blush. Self-conscious, he stared out the window, the family on the patio having finished up and left in the short time he had been at his table.

Over at the bakery, Anthony was leaning on the counter, giving a sweet smile to the girl who was getting orders ready for the customers at the tables. Another employee was handling the to-go ones. 

“Hey, Jessie, can you be so kind to get me a slice of the new fudge flavour for a table, please?”

Jessie batted her impossibly long eyelashes at Anthony. He was very sure they were extensions because they looked like they’d be more at home on a cartoon character than a real life human face. Idly he wondered why women bothered with that. 

“Sure thing, Anthony. Just a minute.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Jessie liked him and Anthony used it to his advantage. Beside him, Michael fumed.

“I was here first and I have a table of five waiting for dessert.”

Anthony fixed her with a stare. “I have a table for one and it’ll only take a moment. Your five can wait thirty extra seconds. Thank you again, Jessie, you’re a doll.” He added a little sugar to his flattery by pursing his lips at her in a kiss-like motion. She didn’t need to know he really wasn’t into feminine people the way he was into masculine ones. His pansexuality was seriously lopsided.

“You arsehole,” Michael hissed in his ear as he took his plate, set it on his tray and headed quickly back to Aziraphale.

“Just for you,” he said as he put it in front of that angelic-looking face with a bit of flourish. “On the house. I’ll pay for it.”

“Uh . . . Anthony . . . thank you, but no . . . I barely know you,” stuttered Aziraphale. 

“Well, we’re just going to have to get to know each other later. I unfortunately have to get a move on. Table 16’s uppity tonight. I’ll be back in while. _Ciao_.”

Aziraphale sat there with his confused feelings, his thoughts about Anthony and other unrelated considerations while he ate his cheesecake. It was rather good despite the turmoil going on in his head, but he was never one to take food for granted. Gourmet stuff was better, but this was chain; you could only expect so much from mass-produced food. He ate every bite, wiping the crumbs from his mouth primly before putting the white cloth napkin there on the table next to the empty dessert plate. 

“That was scrumptious.”

“Who says that anymore? What century are you stuck in?”

Aziraphale looked up to see Anthony had seated himself across from him, arms leaning on the table casually as he grinned at him. Tendrils of red hair had come undone from the ponytail at the nape of his neck, the waves framing his face charmingly. He looked at Aziraphale with amusement in his light hazel eyes. They were a strange shade, indeed. 

“Is delicious better?” Aziraphale asked. 

Looking around for other servers or management, Anthony pulled a ticket out of his apron along with several paper bills and set it on the table next to Aziraphale. He gave him a cocky smile, tapping the pile with a long finger.

“I said I’d pay for it. Just leave it here for a bit and I’ll come back for it. I hope you left me a nice tip with this cash.” 

The lanky young man slipped out of his chair again to leave, Aziraphale grabbing at his wrist before he could disappear.

“I can pay for it, I assure you.”

“Too late. I already got the money out and set it here. I have dibs. Are you working tomorrow? You can buy me some coffee in return. There’s that great café just up the street from the shopping centre we could meet at it, if you want.”

Aziraphale hesitated. Anthony was awfully forward with his flirting and now suddenly he was asking for what sounded like a date. 

_What could it hurt?_ he asked himself.

“Uh . . . no. I’m off tomorrow and I’m done with classes at one.”

“Great. See you at The Daily Grind around three. I do like to sleep in.”

“Ok, that sounds wonderful.”

And he was alone again as the smooth talking newest member of the Cheesecake Works’ staff swanned off to see to his other tables. Aziraphale sat there a while turning his water bottle in his hands and thinking he had agreed to that date awfully quickly. He barely even knew Anthony. Oh well, like he thought just minutes earlier, it couldn’t hurt. He turned back to gaze out the window thinking until Anthony returned to pick up the bill as if he hadn’t set it there in the first place. 

“Sorry, can’t stay. It’s picking up around here. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.” Aziraphale beamed up at him before watching him head off to other tables.

He got up and headed back to work, not looking forward to it, but his heart did feel a little lighter thanks to the encounter with Anthony. Plus Gloria would be off in an hour making the rest of the shift that much more bearable. He clocked back in and was catching up on what went on in the store with another employee, Chelsea, when Gloria stormed out of the backroom carrying the shipping paperwork Aziraphale worked on before his break. The assistant manager withered at the sight of the look on her face. She appeared furious.

“Why didn’t you tell me we didn’t get all of our shipment?” she demanded, waving the papers in his face. “Those are our most popular bath bombs. It’s too late for me to try to contact corporate and see if we can’t get an overnight shipment of them since they’re on sale.”

“I . . . I wrote it right there on the packing sheet and told you before I went on break.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Really, I did tell you, said I was going on break and you told me to only take a half hour.” 

Gloria’s lips pursed into a tight straight line, showing how angry she was. “You have so fucked this up. You’re going to have to open the shop tomorrow because I have damage control to do in the morning. You’ll be lucky if I don’t write you up. I’m leaving early.” She rubbed her temples dramatically with a sigh. “I can’t handle this right now. I just don’t have the spoons.”

“But . . . but I have class tomorrow morning.”

“You should have thought of that before you messed up.” With one last dirty look at Aziraphale, she swept past him and Chelsea, snapping at her, “Don’t you have something to be doing?” before she disappeared into the backroom. They wouldn’t see her again; she’d take the back way out. 

“Bitch,” muttered Chelsea who had started facing product against the sale wall. “She won’t write you up . . . she’s supposed to be responsible for checking in the shipping, not you. She’ll fuck herself over if she does.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’d rather you didn’t use that sort of language,” said Aziraphale with a grateful smile.

“Sorry,” she muttered. 

The night was slow, thankfully, leaving them the time to leisurely work through the nightly closing checklist over several hours rather than rushing to get through it in the hour they had before all shopping centre employees had to vacate the property for the night. Aziraphale was glad when he was able to count down the till, figure the deposit and get the hell out there for the night. He’d have to be back early tomorrow to open up and so much for attending class unless he could get a hold of one of the other assistant managers.

“Good night,” he said to Chelsea before heading to the bus that would take him to the shop’s bank.

Stuffing the deposit bag in his own messenger bag, he slid into a seat on the bus and closed his eyes. Several stops later, he got off, slid the bag in the night deposit slot and headed back up to the bus stop to catch one to Soho. Luckily the bench there was unoccupied so he could sit in peace while he waited.

It was serene until the calm was shattered when a black Bentley roared by, screeched to a halt and backed up so its driver was eye-to-eye with him while idling there on the wrong side of the road. The window came down and a red head popped out.

“Hey, Aziraphale! Want a ride?”

“Uhh . . . sure?” It wasn’t often he was offered a ride in an expensive car. More like never.

Tentatively he got off the bench and walked around to get in the passenger seat, smiling his thanks at Anthony. He carefully set his bag on the floor by his feet, feeling self conscious. This car was worth more than he was. He felt like merely sitting there was getting the soft high-end leather dirty. 

“So, where am I taking you?” Anthony asked.

Aziraphale gave him his address and was immediately pressed back into the luxurious seat as Anthony took off at breakneck speed down the street. Having no regard for traffic laws, he weaved in and out of lanes, squeaking past other vehicles sometimes leaving centimetres between the Bentley and the other car. Aziraphale was convinced they were going to get killed.

He clung to the sides of the seat, closed his eyes and hoped Anthony couldn’t see him sweating in the flickering street lights that sped by as they roared down the street. Maybe a prayer or two would not be out of order, he thought, as he now noticed the Queen blaring out of the stereo.

“Yeah, I know . . . how does a waiter rate a Bentley?” Anthony grinned sheepishly at him. “Rich family. Sorry, should have told you. I know it’s a sticking point with some people. I’m not snobby like most. My mum came from a more modest background and my dad’s parents weren’t always rich. They built up a small business into something big. Dad had to go get his own job and make it on his own to prove he was ready to take over the family business. He’s requiring the same of me and Mum agrees with him. Says it’ll give me character and remind me where we came from.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Aziraphale wasn’t sure what to say. It’s not like Anthony could choose the family he was born into. “I judge people by their character, not their bank accounts.”

He smiled at him and received a relieved one in return. The atmosphere in the car turned slightly awkward and the two drove on in silence for about five minutes before daring to take up the conversation again.

“So, how’d the rest of your shift go?” Anthony asked as he deftly rounded a corner, probably on two wheels. 

“My manager got upset at me and now I have to work her shift tomorrow morning when I have class.”

“That’s bullocks.”

“I know, but I need this job to pay for rent, uni and everything else. I’ve been looking for others, but this one pays well for what it is.”

“Valid. Everyone needs to live. What are you studying?”

“Library sciences.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?” He paused. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

The Bentley came to a screeching halt outside the bookshop. Anthony looked at him as he put the car in park right in front of it, which was marked as an area off limits to parked cars. The lines indicating this on the kerb seemed to escape his attention.

“This the place?”

“Yes. And thank you.”

“Listen.” Anthony stopped him as Aziraphale was getting out. “I know you’re going to have a shitty day tomorrow, so if you want to postpone coffee, feel free. You don’t have to feel obligated or anything . . .”

Aziraphale thought on it for a moment. “No, it’ll be fine. I’ll need it after my shift, if I can’t find someone else to take it.”

Anthony broke into a big smile. “All right. I’ll see you then.”


	3. The Coffee Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is mentioned Hastur and Ligur use and sell illegal substances. They won't be shown dealing or partaking of them.

Bee marched into the tailor next door, their hand clutching a piece of paper so tightly it was wrinkling. The place was nearly empty with only one older man perusing the silk ties in one corner. Bee didn’t care if it was or wasn’t to be honest. They were going to confront Gabriel, customers or not.

“Gabriel! We need to talk!” They stomped over to the till counter, fuming.

Gabriel noticed and smirked at them as he leisurely helped the elderly gentleman pick out and pay for his tie. Taking his time, he wrapped up the purchase in tissue paper and put it in box, then a bag before handing to the man with a bit of small talk. 

Bee’s temper did not improve as they stood there cooling their heels. The paper was all but ripped by the time Gabriel turned those deep blue eyes to her. He always wore colours that accented them, making them look a shade of violet. Bee hated that colour.

“Do you need something?” he snapped at them. 

They shoved the paper at him. “You fucking went to property management? How am I going to explain _this_ to head office?”

“Not my problem,” Gabriel said. “I’m running a classy joint here and if I could get your shop closed, I would. It has no place in this shopping centre, let along next to my business. Not get out before I call security.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Bee gave him their best glare, icy blue eyes burrowing into him. 

“I’ll go to your head offices, too, if you can’t keep the noise down and the riffraff away from my entrance. Do you understand, you little goblin?”

“Whatever, _Karen_.” Bee grabbed the sheet of paper and marched out, feeling the sting of tears in their eyes. “And you don’t run the place. Your daddy and mummy do.”

This was frustrating as hell. Of all the open spaces in the centre, head office had to choose the one next a stuffy arsehole like Gabriel. They headed to the backroom after opening the gate to kick a few boxes in frustration. One broke open after meeting with their black booted foot, spilling some new anime merch all over the floor.

“Fucking figures.” They bent to pick them up, throwing them in an empty box waiting to be broken down and recycled.

Nothing was going right this week, they thought as they prepared for the day to begin. Dagon was in with them today and Bee rather liked her even though they found it weird she preferred her last name over her first. 

“You would, too, if your idiot of a mother named you Prudence,” Dagon had told Bee when they first met. They had become fast friends and Dagon worked her arse off to become Bee’s must trusted assistant manager.

It was midmorning when Ligur wandered in with his friend Hastur, first name unknown and approaching thirty, which was entirely too old for him to act the way he did. Bee sighed. They didn’t need those two stoners hanging around outside the shop all day high on whatever they happened to be smoking this time. They walked over to them, not happy about having to talk to their roommate who would only give them grief later. 

“Don’t you have a job to go to?” they asked pointedly, arms crossed before them. “Rent to pay, you know?”

“I have the next three days off.” Ligur delivered pizza or so Bee thought. They really didn’t care as long as the bills got paid. “Dude, I really don’t want to get kicked out. I got evicted last time, not good when you’re looking for a new place.”

“Just go hang somewhere else. You’re not going to stand around here bothering my customers.”

“Oh, shut it, Bee,” interjected Hastur. “Nothing wrong with us hanging out here in the hallway. It’s not trespassing out here.”

Bee sighed. If they became too much of a problem, Bee would threaten to call the cops. That loser Hastur always had some kind illegal substance on him. 

Several young women walked by, Hastur stopping them in an attempt to flirt unsuccessfully. Part of the reason was how he looked – shaggy Andy Warhol hair that had only been in style with the artist himself and clothing that consisted of an ill-fitting shirt, baggy jeans and an overlarge mac coat that looked like it had seen better days. They stepped around him and he lay in wait for another opportunity.

“Hey, sweetie. How about coming over here to talk to me?” He called to a young woman who was too busy talking to her friends to pay him any attention. “Fine, you bitch. You’re too fat for my tastes, anyway.”

Bee thought Ligur could do better for friends, but it wasn’t their business since the agreement was Hastur did not hang out at the flat. Bee didn’t want whatever he might be dealing around their place. The last thing they wanted to do was have to explain to the police why drugs were in their residence. They might not have the greatest of jobs, but they’d rather keep it.

Stalking out, they confronted him again, his large frame towering over their small one, but they were unafraid of that prat. “You’re not going to catcall women around here, ok? Move on.”

Sneering down at them, he laughed. “And you’re going to stop me, Bee?”

They were on him like a vicious Chihuahua with Napoleon syndrome, up in his face, twisting his arm around as they spun around behind him. Slamming him against the nearby wall, they pushed the arm they held up his back towards his shoulder blades. 

Ligur was off to the side laughing until his sides hurt watching the lopsided fight taking place. “C’mon! They’re just a little thing!”

“Ow! Knock it off! Let me go!”

The echoing noise of their scuffle brought Gabriel out of his shop. “Hey! That’s enough!” 

He was now upon them, pulling Bee off Hastur, Bee getting dragged away as they glared up at Gabriel standing between them. He looked furious. Even Hastur didn’t try to reach around his broad shoulders to have a go at his small rival. Gabriel looked fit enough to hold off Hastur with one hand.

“Break it up! You two! Out before I call the cops!” He pointed so forcefully towards the entrance that Hastur and Ligur took the hint to start slinking towards it. Next he was in Bee’s face. “You’re already on thin ice, missy. Do you want to make it worse?”

“He’s not going to sexually harass women outside my store,” Bee growled.

“Then call security.”

“They don’t do bollocks and you know it!”

“Go back to your store, Bee. You’ve caused me enough problems for one day.”

He pushed them towards Macabre, letting go of their collar as he did. Bee wisely just left before they got themselves in more trouble. They found Dagon, who had been helping customers and unable to witness the fight, but didn’t care much. She avoided Gabriel as much as possible as she had decided she’d rather not be the brunt of his unpleasant arrogant attitude.

“Those two wankers were back. Sorry I had to rush off like that.”

“No problem,” Dagon replied. “You really need to get a subletter for your flat. I don’t know why you decided to invite him to room with you.”

“No choice. Your lease wasn’t up yet and I’m not going to move in with my brother even for a couple of months. Forget it.”

“You always were stubborn. Oh god . . . it’s Heidi again . . . what’s she back here to complain about?”

“I’ll take it.” 

Bee strode towards the determined woman in her mid-twenties who was carrying a paper shopping bag. Another attempted return, Bee just knew it. This idiot was constantly trying to return year-old or more merchandise after she wrecked it. The manager caught Dagon’s eye and gave her a suffering look as they gestured almost imperceptibly towards the customer. Leaning on the till counter, they waited for the mousy young woman to pick her way up to it.

Heidi plopped the bag on the counter, pulling out a well-worn t-shirt to shove towards Bee.

“Can I help you?” Bee asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out their voice.

“This ripped right here along the sleeve.” 

Bee looked at the band advertised on the shirt – Severed Dreams, a punk band whose merchandise they hadn’t carried in about two years. “It’s a couple of years old. You’re well past the return date and you know that.”

“It shouldn’t rip after two years! It’s poorly made and I want a refund.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing in that shirt for the last two years. You could have run with the bulls in Pamplona for all I know. We have a return policy of thirty days with receipt. It’s well past thirty days and I don’t care if you have a receipt. You can’t claim that rip isn’t due to wear and tear.”

“I’ll call corporate!”

“You do that. I never hear a thing from them when you do because you’re ridiculous.”

“I’ll take my business elsewhere, too!” Heidi huffed.

“Please do! Then you won’t be in here driving me barking mad!”

The woman turned on her heel and left, taking her shirt with her. Bee leaned on the counter with a sigh hoping she was gone for good. Heidi was a Karen in the making. They grabbed the shopping bag Heidi left behind and threw it away.

“What do I do to earn such arsehole customers? What I that bad of a person in a former life?”

“Sometimes I think we’re all just in Purgatory,” said Dagon cheerfully. “Or maybe Hell. I can’t decide.”

“You don't have to sound so happy about it.”

“Hey, at least your last name isn’t a Babylonian fish god. Or your first name Prudence. That’s Hell enough.”

“You win. How long until lunch? Rhys comes in so we can both go if I stay on call and nearby.”

“Too long. Let’s just get the stock out and not think about it.”

“And hope no more Karens show up.”

Meanwhile, Aziraphale was opening his own shop, having gotten a hold of another assistant manager who could take over for him in an hour so he could go to class. It was something even if she couldn’t get there sooner. If he caught the buses right, he wouldn’t miss much of his first lecture.

He really should report Gloria to corporate, but he didn’t want to possibly target himself for retaliation, which he really didn’t need right now. He just needed to keep his head down until he found a better job. It shouldn’t take too long. 

He dumped the bag of coins from the safe into the till, recounting them as required. They clanked loudly as he dropped each one in its holder in the drawer. Then he recounted all the paper money, sticking it in its holders. Shutting the drawer he was ready for the day as the first employee arrived.

“Morning, Sarah.”

“Morning, Aziraphale.”

She tended to be a quiet one who got her work done without much interaction with the other employees. Aziraphale didn’t mind today because he had other things on his mind than socializing, like getting to class in time. He looked at his phone; half an hour until the other assistant manager showed up to relieve him. 

“I’m only here for a little while,” he informed Sarah as she clocked in on the computer. “Cindy’s going to replace me in half an hour so I can go to class.”

“Ok.” She headed out with only a brief smile towards him. He would have been offended if he didn’t know that was just her and she didn’t mean anything by it.

Time dragged by for him because he knew he had other obligations. Aziraphale swore he had never looked at his phone's clock so much or wished that he could be elsewhere so badly. It did not help that business was slow and there was little to do other than a bit of stocking and facing of the product. Sarah had taken to playing Tic Tocs on her phone and despite Gloria’s insistence that phones not be out while one was on the clock, he didn’t have the heart to tell her to put it away. There was nothing to do. Literally.

That changed when Anthony entered like an energetic breath of fresh air. “Hey Aziraphale. How’s the shift going?”

Aziraphale smiled shyly at him in return. “Oh, it’s slow, but another assistant is supposed to be here in about twenty minutes to take over my shift so I can get to class. Why are you here?”

Anthony was not dressed in his work uniform, but looked dashing in a black tee shirt and pair of extremely skinny jeans that showed exactly how thin those legs of his were. Aziraphale imagined what his bum must look like in those, suddenly finding himself wishing he’d turn around so he could view it.

“You going to be able to get to class on time?” asked Anthony, completely ignoring his question. “It takes a while for the buses to get anywhere. What time are your classes?”

“It’ll be close, but I should be fine.”

“No. I’ll drive you.”

“But . . .” 

“No arguments. I’ve got to get some lunch money to my sister . . . sibling. They’re non-binary and I keep forgetting. Just came out last month. I’ll be back and we’ll get you to class, ok?”

He was out the door before Aziraphale could argue further. “But I . . .”

There was no point in arguing to air, though, also Sarah was beside him curious. “So Anthony Crowley’s interested in you.” Her phone was back in her pocket as juicy gossip was now on the table.

“Does everyone know Anthony?”

“Quite a few do. He’s made the rounds working in all the stores around this area of the mall. I bet he’s had a job in at least three-fourths of them in this hallway alone. Something about him being a trust fund baby who’s required to have a job.” She grinned at him. “You could have yourself a sugar daddy. He hasn’t been interested in anyone for a long time although all the girls and a few of the guys are after him. He’s rich and cute.”

“Oh . . .” Aziraphale wasn’t sure what to say about that. He gazed out the door, looking in the direction that Anthony had headed when he left and smiled to himself. Someone wanted him. Someone like Anthony, with all his cool attitude and confidence. Aziraphale pushed down the fuzzy feeling he was getting and got back to work.

Up at Macabre, Bee was reluctantly taking money from Anthony with a scowl on their face. Pocketing it they sighed and looked around for customers. Seeing none, they continued with the conversation, taking it beyond a polite thank you.

“There’s another reason why you’re here, isn’t there?”

“What ever would make you say that?” He leaned a little too casually on the counter.

“Your hair’s brushed nice and you’re wearing your best jeans,” replied Dagon who was walking by with a handful of goth-looking plushies to put on the latest display she built. “Nice sunglasses. You should remember to take them off inside.”

“What do you know?” Anthony snapped back, shoving his dark glasses up on top of his head.

“Oh, it’s getting round the rumour mill that you’re interested in that frumpy little assistant manager. Why him of all people?” asked Bee.

“Maybe because he’s not hanging all over me hoping I’ll date him and shower him with gifts?” His gaze drifted off, a slight smile on his face. “He’s smart, cute and he likes me in return. For me. Not my money.”

“Compatibility is a thing, Tony. And how do you know he isn’t interested in your riches?”

“Don’t call me that.” Anthony didn’t answer the question. The truth was he couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure about that just yet, but he highly suspected Aziraphale was telling the truth when he told him in the Bentley that he didn’t care about Anthony’s bank account. 

“Don’t get yourself hurt, ok?”

“You can date me, Anthony. I wouldn’t ever dump you,” called Dagon from her position at the other till where she was printing out the daily sales report from yesterday. “I could use a sugar daddy.”

“Hahaha, funny, Dagon. You’re not even into guys.”

“I’d make an exception.” She batted her eyes teasingly at him before breaking into laughter as he blushed slightly and started to become flustered. “God, you’re so easy to mess about with.”

“Shut it.”

“Where are you taking him?” asked Bee.

“What?”

“Knock it off, Anthony. I know you’re taking him on a date!”

“We’re going out for coffee after he’s done with classes. Nothing more! Get off my back!”

He stormed out, the two managers watching him go. Dagon shrugged as she headed to the back where the printer was set up. Bee just rolled their eyes. 

“Drama queen. Always has been,” they muttered as they started looking over the inventory reports before ordering merchandise.

~*~*~

Aziraphale was looking over Anthony’s music collection as they drove along to the university in style. He could get used to someone giving him rides very easily. This beat taking public transportation by miles. Smiling, he gazed over at Anthony as he steered the car into the next lane.

“You’ve got quite a collection.” In Aziraphale’s hands were CDs of everything from classical music to The Velvet Underground. “But why keep them here when you can just sync your phone to the radio?”

Anthony shrugged. “I guess I’m slightly sentimental. But if there’s anything you want to listen to, feel free.”

“No. What you have on is fine. I tend to like pop and classical, really. I just haven’t had the time lately to cultivate my musical tastes.”

Anthony grinned at him. “Then you study too much. Live a little, Aziraphale.”

“I try . . . I don’t quite have the free time you do.”

“Maybe we can change that. Find you a better job. Streamline your studying . . .” Anthony trailed off. “And I’m getting ahead of myself again. Sorry. Ok. Here we are. Forget I said anything and we’ll just do coffee. You look like you need a friend and I want to apply for that position.”

“Don’t worry about it. I could really use a friend. Most of mine moved away after graduation and that was that. I really didn’t seek out new ones. I’ll see you for coffee?”

“I’m picking you up right here, Aziraphale.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I don’t mind at all.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Anthony had all but decided he’d do anything for Aziraphale despite them having just met. He drove off to find something to do for the next few hours, his head so completely in the clouds he nearly ran a red light.

Aziraphale didn’t fare much better in class but managed to keep the daydreaming at bay enough to take notes. Unlike most of the students who had laptops for transcribing lectures, Aziraphale still did his in notebooks. Computers never made him comfortable and he endured a lot of flack for it, finally just saying that he really couldn’t afford a computer. It was not far off from the truth. He was completely on his own as he had refused help from his parents. He had come into their life rather late and he preferred they created a nest egg for their upcoming retirement than spend that money on him. 

He was an only child and completely unexpected as they had given up on ever getting pregnant when his mother discovered she was pregnant at forty. They named him after his great-grandfather, whom it was said was named after an angel, had doted on him and he had never wanted for anything, although he mostly wanted books. He had the quiet upbringing of a bookworm, yet it suited him.

But right now more than anything, he wanted classes to end so he could see Anthony again.

“All right,” said the lecturer at the front of the current class he was attending. “For Wednesday read the next two chapters and look over the online material listed on the syllabus. See you then.”

Talking and the sounds of students shuffling items into bags filled the room. Aziraphale packed up his notes and textbook, ready to head out to where Crowley dropped him off to wait for him to return. He almost bumped into Michael who was heading down the lecture hall’s stairs talking to a blonde girl and a guy wearing a shirt supporting the local rugby team.

“Excuse you!” she snapped then paused, recognizing him as someone she had seen around the shopping centre.

He mumbled, “Sorry,” before moving on.

“Something up?” asked the girl.

“No. I'm so tired of these nerds, that's all,” replied Michael, swinging her rucksack in front of her to better get down the narrow stairs. She watched Aziraphale leave with a sense of urgency and promptly forgot about him.

Aziraphale noticed the Bentley and walked immediately to it, getting in the passenger seat with a sweet smile. He smiled at Anthony. “Hello. Thank you for all the rides. I do appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I enjoy it.” There was silence for a beat. “Where did you get your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My great-grandfather. He was apparently named after the angel who guarded the Eastern Gate of Eden.”

“Interesting. I could see you as an angel.” He gave Aziraphale a side-long glance and noticed him blushing. “But one of those ones who teaches people knowledge, not some kind of warrior.”

“No. I don’t think I’d be an angel.” Aziraphale tried to hide his blush by adjusting his bag down by his feet.

“So . . . coffee?”

“Yes.”

The coffee shop was nice, a little retro, which suited Aziraphale just fine and helped him calm a bit of his nerves at what amounted to a first date. He hadn’t been on a date since he was a teenager, choosing instead to concentrate on work and studies. After ordering a nice mocha latte and picking it up, he walked with Anthony to a secluded area in the back where they could talk. Anthony had ordered a cappuccino. He sat at the table blowing on it before looking up at Aziraphale.

“So how does a nice guy like you end up working for a shitty boss like Gloria Uriel?”

“The pay was right and I do so love their lotions. I would have rather worked in a bookshop, to be honest. A nice secondhand one with lots of old first editions. That’s my passion, really. Old books that have been sitting around just waiting for someone to brush off the dust and read them again.”

Anthony wasn’t big on reading anything longer than a news article, but still found Aziraphale’s enthusiasm very charming. He could see him puttering around in a bookshop happily arranging his inventory and enjoying the feel and smell of the old volumes. He could almost imagine himself there, too, lazing the afternoon away on his phone while talking to Aziraphale about everything under the sun.

“Interesting. I admit I’m not much of a book reader. News and stuff on the internet, yes. But there is something about old things, isn’t there? All that history in them.” 

“Yes! Exactly! It’s a glimpse into the past, isn’t it?” Aziraphale paused to take a sip of his latte. “So what do you like if you don’t like to read?”

“Art. I want to fill my flat with art one day,” Anthony looked wistful. “I’d kill for a DaVinci, but that’s never going to happen.”

“You never know.” Aziraphale smiled. “You know, I’ve always enjoyed going to art museums and shows but nobody ever wants to go with me.”

“I’ll go. Maybe there are some up and coming artists that would spark my interest and I could look into buying their art.”

Aziraphale wiggled happily and almost imperceptibly on his chair. “Maybe we’ll have to go sometime.”

“Maybe we will. What else to you like?”

“Oh, nothing you’d find interesting. I do enjoy a good concert. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the London Symphony Orchestra.”

“There’s another date if you want to continue this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why not? I’d so take you out wine tasting, too.”

“I’d love that.”

Aziraphale didn’t even notice how forward Anthony was being anymore. It was exciting to find someone with interests that matched a few of his own. They kept on talking until their coffee grew cold and their cups empty. Anthony gestured towards Aziraphale’s finished latte.

“Want another?”

“I can buy. You’ve been spending gas on taxiing me around.”

“If you want.” Anthony knew better than to push too far even though gas money and a few cups of fancy coffee would hardly break the bank for him. 

Walking up to the front with him, he ordered another cappuccino and allowed Aziraphale to pay. They stood off to the side waiting for their orders to be made. Feeling awkward, Anthony pushed a lock of long hair behind his ear. Aziraphale fidgeted shyly.

“This is nice. It’s been a while since I’ve been out with people myself,” said Anthony. 

It seemed lame to say, but what he really wanted to do was break into a rushed babble about how much he liked Aziraphale, wanted to do things with him, give him gifts, make him happy and ultimately kiss him, but he figured that would be much worse to express. There was nothing like scaring your date off with all those fantasies that played in your head when you first met someone whom you felt like was the one for you. 

“You? But you seem so extraverted compared to me.” Aziraphale turned to pick the mugs left for them on the counter by the barista. He handed Anthony his.

“I’ve been dealing with some stuff lately. Bee’s needed support coming out as non-binary. My father’s been on my back about another job and now I’ve spent a lot of weekend nights working since that’s the restaurant business for you.”

“True. Nothing like a job to kill your social life, I guess. And it’s nice you’ve been there for your sibling. I take it they’re required to have a job, too?”

“Bee decided not to take their half of the trust. They’ve had some differences with our dad and grandparents. But it becomes mine free and clear in two years which means my mum and dad won’t be administrators of it anymore. I’m going to put their share in a different trust and save it for them. Even if they don’t take it, I can save it for any kids they might have or something. I don’t know . . . it’s not right for me to use it.”

Aziraphale felt his heart melt that much more hearing about Anthony’s concern for his sibling and their portion of the family fortune. “That’s very kind of you.”

Anthony looked at him over the rim of the cappuccino mug, grinning. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m not kind. I just hide that I’m a jerk very well.”

“Well, you have me fooled.”

Aziraphale’s soft hand rested on the table top just to the right of his latte. Anthony looked down at it, tempted to take it in his own where he could feel its softness against his own fingers. Yes, it was so tempting, but was it too soon? He didn’t know and he didn’t want to scare Aziraphale off. This wonderful angel who loved old books and art and music and dressed like he was still in the Victorian times was the loveliest thing in his life right now and he didn’t want to screw this up.

Instead he just enjoyed Aziraphale’s company, drinking in his wonderful smile and listening to the sound of his voice as he talked. That alone was Heaven and he could stay in this happy place he found forever. 


	4. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Aziraphale's date goes well, but tensions rise at the Cheesecake Works. Dagon spends some time with Bee, worried about them. And who are these other two that have shown up?

Neither Aziraphale nor Anthony knew they were being watched. Two figures stood outside the café observing them on their coffee date. One looked at the other sceptically. 

“Everything seems fine. Why are we even here?” 

“You know very well.” 

“Yeah. Preventing one big multiverse mess.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Three weeks ago we weren’t even aware there _was_ a multiverse.” 

There was a sigh. “I know. Let’s not dwell on that. Things look fine for now. We can check in later.” 

They strolled off to a nearby alley and slipped into the shadows created by the buildings. 

“This situation is barking mad and Anthony’s way too cocky.” 

“It takes one to know one.” 

“I’m not that bad.” 

His companion snorted. 

They continued bickering as they disappeared. 

~*~*~ 

Anthony drove Aziraphale back to his flat where they stood outside his front door. Neither was sure where to go from here. Anthony rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, feeling nervous. He gave Aziraphale a small hopeful smile and swallowed down his panic. 

“I had a good time,” he said finally. 

“Yes, I did, too.” 

“Want to do it again?” 

“Very much so. I’ll have to check my schedule, though. Gloria hasn’t bothered to post next week’s.” 

“Oh.” Anthony tried not to sound disappointed. 

Aziraphale immediately picked up on it, realizing it must sound like a soft rejection. “Oh, no! It’s not like that! I’m being serious. I want to see you again.” 

He reached out to Anthony, laying his hand on top of his. Realizing what he had done, he looked down at his hand on Anthony’s, shock registering on his face. Anthony was staring, too, then his hand shifted so that he was grasping Aziraphale’s. 

Their eyes met and Aziraphale’s flicked away for a moment. He blushed before they returned to gaze upon Anthony. Anthony smiled and reached for Aziraphale’s other hand and it felt right. It felt _so_ right. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked before his brain knew what his mouth was saying. _Dumb, dumb, dumb! You’re going to ruin this!_

Things were delicate at this stage. They had only gone on a _date_. They weren’t _dating_. Big difference. 

“Yes.” 

Anthony jumped at the answer, recovering before leaning in towards Aziraphale’s lips. They met, tentative at first before both became bold enough to put their all into it. Anthony felt the connection to Aziraphale through the touch and it told him this was the right move to make. It could have been an outright disaster, but instead here it was going splendidly. Anthony tasted him as Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his neck. They stood there for ages enjoying each other. 

Aziraphale felt a spark that passed between them as they snogged on his doorstep, his hands petting through Anthony’s long hair. He felt like he was an old pro at such moves rather than inexperienced in the dating scene. Yet it all seemed to be going smoothly. It must be. He was kissing a guy he had only met a few days ago. It didn’t matter. Some things were meant to be and Aziraphale figured that is was or they wouldn’t be kissing right now. They pulled apart, smiling at each other. 

“I’d better let you go. Here, give me your phone. I’ll put my number in it if you’d like.” 

“I would. Thank you.” He handed over an old flip model, much to Anthony’s amusement. Aziraphale did the same for Anthony, handing him back his iPhone 11. “Call me anytime.” 

With a giddy smile, he said his goodbyes and went inside. One day when it was proper, he’d invite Anthony in. For now, he was going to stand behind his door trying not to celebrate the kiss until Anthony couldn't hear him. He waited five minutes before he let out a scream. 

_I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven. He likes me!_

Giddy with excitement, Aziraphale attempted to settle down to do his homework but found it hard to concentrate on his reading. 

Back in the Bentley, Anthony sank back in the driver’s seat, hands running through his hair. 

_Oh my God . . . I’m attracted to this angelic nerd of a student and it’s the best thing ever._

Grinning like a maniac, he started the car and drove back to his flat. 

~*~*~ 

Beelzebub had the flat to themselves tonight and they were enjoying it. Sitting on the couch with Cerberus, they flipped through university sites on their phone. After the day they had, it was time to start looking at gaining some skills. They had to move on from this stupid dead-end job that was sucking out their will to live. It would mean taking Anthony up on his offer they had refused before. But maybe it was time to swallow the pride a little for the chance to get out of this situation. They lived with a dead-beat, put up with a lot at work, and were almost ready to strangle someone on the worst days. 

Yes, it was time to move on. 

Their phone vibrated announcing a text. Opening it up, they saw it was from Dagon. 

_You still up?_

_Yes._ _Ligur’s_ _out doing whatever the fuck he does when he’s with friends._

_Good you need time to decompress_   
_You don’t work tomorrow, do you?_

_No_

_Let’s get together do lunch or something my treat_

_Like you have money_

_Stop worrying about it and let’s have some fun_   
_It’s a meal not a night pub crawling_

_All right!_ Bee put down their phone, thought a moment then picked it back up. _When I finally get that_ _raise_ _we’re going to spend a night getting off our tits. Heading to bed night_

Dagon read their response and chuckled. She sat out on her tiny balcony having a beer while watching the traffic below move along in a streak of lights. She had one more year left before she graduated with a degree in business administration. It was a matter of time before she could get a real job, a real house, and could start actually living. Youth was wasted on the young, wasn’t it? You spent your early adulthood trying to get your shit together enough to survive. When you finally had money, you were too bogged down with adult responsibilities or too old to enjoy it. What a messed up system. 

Continued texting with Bee was out since they were going to bed. Instead, she conversed with other friends before she thought of texting Anthony out of curiosity. 

_So_ _how’d your date go?_

It was a good half hour before he responded. _Piss off_

_Wow_   
_Rude_

_I’m not here for your amusement_

_Did you kiss him?_   
_Did you?_

She received no further texts from him. Returning to her other conversations, she pondered having a cigarette. Nah, she decided since she was making good progress towards quitting. One of these days she was going to convince Bee to give up the habit as well. That might have to wait until they were in a less stressful situation – a new job, a new flat. Dagon decided it would be worth it. She found that she could no longer stand the smell of cigarette smoke. It was selfish of her, but also it would be good for Bee’s health if they’d quit. She worried about her friend a lot and all they were carrying on their shoulders. 

She would have to talk to Anthony about convincing Bee to go back to school. They were wasted in retail and even a trade job would garner them more respect and a better salary. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to piss him off. She’d bring it up in a couple of days; his memory wasn’t that long when it came to holding grudges. For now, she was going to head to bed since it was nearing midnight and she had to be up for lunch with Bee. It had been a while since she’d had a good eight hours; might as well jump on the chance to get them while she could. Getting up, she took her empty bottle to the recycling bin then took herself to her bedroom. 

~*~*~ 

The next day, Michael was following around the manager, Tony, trying to get him to listen to her. He wasn’t because Michael tended to complain a lot about those whom she felt didn’t follow the rules. Tony had tired of her attitude a long time ago, but she never did anything that he could fire her over. Besides, she was good at her job despite her attitude towards the rest of the staff. 

“. . . and he doesn’t even follow procedure when greeting patrons and serving drinks.” 

He turned to her. “Michael, he gets his job done and has been improving since I hired him. Nobody follows the stupid greeting procedure nor does Sandy require it and it’s his franchise. Now, I can schedule you for different hours than Anthony, but there is always going to be some overlap. I can’t keep you two completely separated since I need all hands on deck on weekends. Believe me, if it would shut you up, I would. Now it’s the middle of the dinner rush and we both have things we should be doing.” 

“But . . .” she tried to get in one last argument. 

“I have other duties I need to get done and you have tables to wait on. Now, go.” 

He walked off to go help in the overbusy kitchen, leaving Michael rooted to her spot with her mouth open in protest. Frustrated, she stomped off to see if Table 9 needed refills. On the way there, she passed by Anthony’s table, which was empty except for the dirty plates and a nice-sized tip. Looking around, she saw nobody who would know it wasn’t hers then pocketed it. It’s not like Anthony needed the money. 

She took all the cash tips from his tables thinking he just wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he was scraping by to survive, now was he? He was here because his parents demanded it. Unfortunately for her, he did catch on to what she was doing and confronted her when the rush died down. 

“Stealing my tips off my tables? That’s a new low even for you, Michael,” he whispered in her ear as she piled dirty dishes by the sink. “I knew you weren’t well off, but I didn’t know you needed charity. Keep them. Consider them a donation. I wouldn’t want you to get evicted or have to skip meals.” 

He smirked at her before heading back out to the dining room. She almost threw her serving tray at the back of his head as he walked cockily away. The bastard. Who did he think he was? Tears in her eyes, she ran to the restroom and wasn’t seen for about half an hour. 

Anthony went back to his work without another thought towards her. 

After they had closed and completed all their end-of-the-night duties, the staff of Cheesecake Works left. Except for Anthony, who had disappeared and was probably off waiting for his crush. Michael stomped through the car park, stopping long enough to glare at the Bentley before heading to her car. Even that she was off tomorrow before the dinner rush didn’t banish her irritation. She fumbled in her purse for her keys as she walked, someone approaching her from her left side. Looking up, she saw it was Ligur and Hastur. 

“What do you two want?” 

“Just wondered if you needed anything,” replied Hastur. “It’s been a while.” 

“No. I have my grades to think about.” She reached her car and was unlocking it. “Why are you still hanging around?” 

Ligur shrugged. “No reason. I noticed how upset you were.” 

He liked her, but he felt he was completely out of her league. Still, he talked to her in hopes that one day she would give him a chance. It was a slim hope, a fact he was well aware of and a hope that Hastur didn’t agree with. Of course, it’s not like Hastur was getting any with his techniques. He would be thirty in three months' time but insisted on hitting on young women ten years his junior. He was desperately trying to hold on to a youth he squandered on dead-end jobs, illegal substances, and other bad life choices. 

“It’s the new server. He’s an arsehole, that’s all. You get co-workers like that,” she replied. “He’s rich as hell and a couple of the girls say he’ll leave the job as soon as his father stops paying attention.” 

“Why does his dad care what he’s up to?” 

Michael shrugged. “Something about learning how not to be a rich snob by working among the rest of us plebs.” 

“Must be nice. Well, if you ever want me to rob him or anything to put him in his place let me know.” 

Michael smiled at the offer. If Anthony ever got to be a real irritation rather than a minor nuisance, Ligur could take care of him. “Thanks. He’s not any real trouble right now. I bet he’ll move on like they say. But I’ll let you know if I need anything. I need to go. Talk to you later?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be around. See you.” He gave a nod and headed off with Hastur, lighting a cigarette as they walked off. 

“She’s never going to sleep with you,” grunted Hastur before he was distracted. “Heyyyy, look at that. Someone drove a Bentley here of all things.” Walking up to Anthony’s beloved car, he looked it over, running a finger over the bonnet. “Niiiice. Too nice. I’m going to have to do something about that.” 

Pulling out his house key, he ran it along the entire side of the Bentley from the driver’s side door to the taillight. Ligur watched with a grin, getting a short video of it to send to Michael. He had a feeling this car belonged to the rich server who was causing her headaches. It could win him some favours with her if it turned out to be the right vehicle. He egged Hastur on, trying to get his friend to key up the other side as well. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” 

Seeing the man approaching them, they took off at a run across the car park. The man, who had no personal stake in what happened to Anthony’s Bentley, gave no chase nor made no call of the police. He headed off to his own vehicle now that someone else’s was no longer being vandalized. 

He didn’t notice the two standing several metres away watching the entire event. The taller, thinner one looked at the other, gesturing his annoyance. The shorter one shrugged. 

“I had a feeling something was going on.” 

“Yeah, vandalism. The two we are watching over are fine. Let’s go.” 

“We can fix it while we’re here.” 

“I’m not here to play guardian angel. It’s bad enough I’m here to play Cupid. He can find a body shop to repair it like humans do. Besides, that Bentley is uglier than sin. The damage doesn’t hurt its looks any.” 

“If you won’t fix it, then I will.” 

“Be my guest.” 

His companion sighed and with a flick of his wrist, repaired the Bentley. 

~*~*~ 

Dagon had chosen a nice little cafe that wasn’t too expensive near the shopping centre for her lunch with Bee. She had her shift this afternoon and the other assistant manager, Colin, was working this morning. Bee was off, but they deserved a day away from that insane asylum once in a while. Dagon was of the opinion they didn’t take enough time for themselves these days. The two sat out on the patio under a table with a rather large umbrella advertising some new brand of ale. Its plastic canopy flapped in the wind making it hard to hear at times and Bee looked annoyed. 

“We can request a table inside,” said Dagon. “It’s not like we’ve ordered or anything.” 

“It might be a good idea,” sighed Bee. “This thing’s going to drive me crazy.” 

Dagon signaled the server who found them a table near the squeaking door to the patio. It wasn’t much of an improvement with the servers going in and out, but it would have to do. Bee fiddled with the salt shaker, pouring some out on the table to trace designs in while Dagon looked on, amused. She put her chin in her hand. 

“Someone’s got to clean that up, you know.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” 

“You’re wasted on that manager position. Anthony’s right. You should go to school.” 

Bee glowered at her. “He bitched at me that you texted him about his date. Why would you do that?” 

“Why not? I was curious how it went with that fussy librarian-in-training he’s got a crush on. So not his type.” 

The door squeaked open again, slamming shut. Bee winced and the design in the salt took on a squiggly look. Dagon sighed; getting her friend to relax for once wasn’t going to be easy. 

“Let it be. I don’t know what he’s up to and I don’t care right now. I have a lot to deal with in my job and with my roommate without worrying about my brother.” 

The door slammed again. 

“Can we get takeout? Does this place do that? We can head to a park or something.” Bee had hit their tolerance level already and the day was only beginning for them. 

It didn’t and they ended up fleeing to go get fish and chips to go at a nearby restaurant. Strolling down the pavements, they munched the fried goodness as they window shopped, looking at everything from clothing to antiques. Bee snorted to see the fashions offered for women along this block. Everything was pastel and flowers were the popular design this season. They wouldn’t be caught dead in anything so feminine. But they mused Dagon would look nice in something soft and flowery with her reddish-brown hair. 

“I’ll think about uni,” they finally said out of the blue. “I just don’t know for what.” 

“I’d be happy to help you figure it out,” Dagon replied with a smile. 

~*~*~ 

Humming along with the Handel playing from his old iPod, Aziraphale took another sip of wine as he made dinner. Dinner consisted of an attempt to properly cook marinated chicken breasts and asparagus. His cooking was getting better but he much preferred to eat out whenever he had the money for it. Sliding the dish containing the chicken breasts in the oven, he set it for half an hour hoping that would be enough. He had to pull out a cookbook to figure out how to actually cook the asparagus. The cookbook said it was good drizzled with olive oil and roasted in the oven. Checking the cabinets, he found a bottle of olive oil that was three-fourths full that he didn’t know he had. Shaking some on the asparagus, he put it next to the chicken and hoped it would cook all right at the same temperature. Setting the timer on his microwave, he sat down in the living room to read while dinner cooked. 

A large, fluffy Himalayan cat jumped in his lap, purring as it balanced on the chair’s arm asking for attention. Indulgently, Aziraphale laughed and scratched the cat behind its beige tartan collar. The cat bunted its head against his forehead before rubbing its face all over Aziraphale’s. 

“Hello, darling. How are you tonight?” 

He moved to massage behind a chocolate brown ear earning him a look of relaxation from the cat’s blue eyes. She gazed out at him from a dark brown mask that only intensified the blue of her stare. She was a beautiful cat and very much spoiled by her owner. He had named her Demeter after one of the cat names mentioned in T.S. Elliot’s _Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats_. Most people who knew the musical thought he named her after that. The truth was, Aziraphale had never seen _Cats_. He had little interest in Broadway theatre. 

“You want to be fed, don’t you?” 

Putting aside his book, he rose to go get a can of cat food. Pulling a dish out of the drying rack by the sink, he placed the food on it, chopping it up into small pieces for her. He overdid it, but he spoiled Demeter something terrible. She was the most important thing in his life right now, although both of them remained unaware there was now a contender for that position. Setting it on the floor, he stepped back as she trotted over to sniff at it before taking polite bites. Aziraphale watched for a moment before leaving her to it, returning to his chair to read until the asparagus’s timer went off. 

He settled in to catch up on assigned chapters for his literature class. He had read Dante’s Paradise Lost before, but it was prudent to reread it. His grades were always in the high ranges and he preferred to keep it that way. Aziraphale was a bit of an academic perfectionist. He was paying for this degree; it didn’t make sense to slack off. He wanted his money’s worth, although he wondered if some of his fellow students did as much as they skipped class. 

The distinct ring tone of his phone distracted him from his reading. Blinking in confusion because few called him but his parents, who were in Spain right now, he picked it up off the table beside him. 

“Hullo?” 

There was a pause before the caller spoke. “ _Hi, Aziraphale. I’m not bothering you or anything, am I?_ ” 

“No, Anthony. Not at all. How are you doing?” 

“ _Oh, kind of bored. I had a shift today but that’s been it. I’m sitting around the flat looking for something to watch on Netflix or whatever. Nothing’s standing out, though._ ” 

“I’m making dinner and feeding the cat. I have some reading to do for class, too. So, kind of dull here, too.” 

“ _Are you a good cook?_ ” 

“I’m learning. I’d rather eat out, to be honest.” Aziraphale laughed at his own like of restaurant food when he had to live somewhat frugally. 

“ _I could burn water._ ” 

“What do you live on?” 

“ _Mostly takeout. Sometimes I’ll have some cereal in the morning._ ” Anthony paused a moment as if he didn’t know what to say. “ _I should really learn to make at least basic stuff. It’s not like I need to learn to whip up a souffle or something._ ” 

Aziraphale smiled to hear his voice. “Maybe we could learn together, then.” 

“ _We could._ ” 

The idea of learning to cook with Anthony spread like a warmth across Aziraphale’s heart. It felt too soon to be acting like this but here he was, and it seemed Anthony was about in the same place. Were some things meant to be? He wondered that as they chatted, getting to know each other better until the oven beeped. Aziraphale felt bad having to tell Anthony he had to go, his heart sinking as he said the words. 

“We should get together for dinner,” Aziraphale suggested. “You could come over and I could teach you the basic bits I already know about cooking.” 

“ _I’d like that. Anyway, I’ll let you get to your dinner. Talk to you later?_ ” 

After saying their goodbyes, Aziraphale felt happier than he had since the date. Dinner felt less lonely after talking to Anthony, a feeling that carried through the night. He had been ignoring that he did need to socialize and now that he was, it was like rain on parched ground. 


	5. Robbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel meets with his friend Sandalphon to complain about Bee. Aziraphale is robbed by Hastur, but it's Anthony to the rescue when he needs comfort afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Gabriel deliberately misgenders Bee again because he continues to be a jerk like that.

Robert “Sandy” Sandalphon was waiting at a table at his restaurant, Cheesecake Works, digging through the financial figures on the papers in front of him while he waited for his friend Gabriel to end his shift, so they could head out for a few drinks. Sandy was a bit older, somewhere in his thirties and prematurely bald. A little overweight because he did enjoy a good meal, he was a shrewd businessman who had two restaurants now. Not that he was getting rich off of them, but he was comfortable. He had met Gabriel a few years back at a seminar when Gabriel was in his early twenties and starting his managership. They hit it off immediately and had been friends since despite the age difference.

Tony came out now that it wasn’t busy to sit with him, offering him a bottle of water. Sandy took it with a nod of thanks.

“Busy weekend?” he asked his manager.

“Yes, we had a steady flow through here,” Tony replied. “We could use one more server as you know, but interviews have not been going well.”

“I know. Uni has started and the kids are concentrating on their classes. Let’s try to find someone interested in full-time. They can man the bakery when we don’t have server shifts.” 

“I’ll get on that.”

Anthony walked by at that point carrying an empty tray. His shirt had come partially untucked. Tony stopped him.

“Hey, your shirt’s come undone.”

“Oh, sorry.” He looked around trying to find out where then located the problem past his right hip. “I’ll go take care of that.”

Sandy watched him go. “Is that the Crowley boy?”

“Yes.”

“How’s he doing?” Sandy had been contacted by Anthony’s father about getting him a job. He had decided to give the boy a chance.

“He’s improving, but he is a bit lazy.” Tony wasn’t much younger than Sandy, but he had a full head of brown hair cropped short that he brushed a hand over.

“Sorry to dump him on you like that, but Trevor and Eden Crowley are important members of our business club. Doing them this favour amounts to a bit of networking.”

“He’ll work out. If he sticks with it.”

“Yes, I’ve been warned that he’s prone to quit after a few months. At least his father won’t hold that against me. It’s in his track record.” Sandy looked up. “Gabriel! Come. Have a seat!”

Tony rose to leave. “Excuse me. I’ll get back to work here. Don’t get too drunk, you two.”

“Next time you’re coming with us, Tony!” called Sandy.

“The Crowley kid works for you?” Gabriel asked as he sat down.

Sandy nodded. “Favour for his parents. Apparently he’s running out of places to find a job because he won’t stick with one. I told Tony to go easy on him. I’d like him to stay because it’ll look good to his father.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Good luck. I’ve heard rumours of that one. They ought to just let him be lazy. If he wants to act like a hedonist, let him figure it out that he needs to not squander his inheritance. Cut the apron strings already. And why shove him off on everyone else when the Crowleys have their own business?”

“Trevor wants to avoid nepotism.”

“How noble. Make the rest of the world suffer with his son. Anyway, shall we go?”

They left for their favourite pub to enjoy lunch along with a few pints. Soon they were seated at a table awaiting their orders while they had their first round. Gabriel leaned back in his chair and looked over at an attractive woman who was leaving, checking out her bum as she walked by. Sandy shook his head.

“Never going to change, are you?”

“Nothing wrong with a look. It’s not like I hit on them. It’s all about being discreet.” Gabriel smiled that winning smile of his. His teeth were almost too white. “Do you know anyone in the shopping centre management? There’s a little problem I’d like to get rid of.”

“Sorry, I haven’t been able to get in good with any of them yet. What’s the problem?”

“The manager of the goth shop next door. The whole goth shop, in fact.” Gabriel stared into his pint, scowling. “It’s been affecting my business ever since they moved in with their loud music and creepy customers. I can’t stand the girl who runs it. I’d love to get her fired, the arrogant little goblin.”

“Woah, strong feelings there. I wish I could help. It wasn’t smart of your parents to put a suit shop in a shopping centre.”

“They thought it would attract those who couldn’t afford something from Bond Street or Savile Row.”

A server came out with their dishes, placing them in front of them. “You boys need anything else?”

“Another round in a few minutes, but that’s all. Thanks,” replied Sandy. “I’ll see what I can do, though.”

She left them.

“I want that shop out so badly, Sandy. You have no idea.” Gabriel drained what little was in his glass. “I don’t know about another pint. I would kind of like something stronger.”

They moved on to whisky with their meal then after it, becoming increasingly drunk. Gabriel became angrier and angrier over his shop’s failure to be as successful as he wanted it to be. Sandy listened with sympathy.

“Listen, I know some guys. Rough, don’t hold a job down too well, probably into things we don’t want to know about. I hire them occasionally to take care of problems. People don’t like to be threatened. They wouldn’t have a problem ripping up that goth shop for you. What to do you say? Want me to put you in contact with them?”

Gabriel’s smile grew wide. “I believe I would.”

~*~*~

It was dark when Aziraphale walked out with the deposit bag for the day, ready to get it to bank and get home. What he wasn’t ready for was Hastur who was lurking alone outside the entrance lying in wait. He approached Aziraphale, careful to keep his face out of the light. His hood was up, concealing his hair and helping cast a shadow over his features. Aziraphale jumped when Hastur stepped out beside him. He towered over Aziraphale, adding to the intimidation.

“Hello . . . can I help you?”

“I want the bag.”

Aziraphale backed up. “I’m afraid I . . . I can’t give it to you. It’s not mine to . . . to give away.”

“There are worse things I can take from you, my friend.” 

A knife appeared in Hastur’s hand; Aziraphale gasped. His hands curled protectively over his own chest, the deposit bag dangling from his fingers. Hastur plucked it away from him and took off at run before the trembling Aziraphale could react. Hands shaking, he took out his phone to call the police, then Gloria and sat down on a nearby bench before his knees completely gave out. He waited on it for an eternity before the police showed up to take his statement. Gloria arrived soon after he was finished talking to them.

“What do you mean you let him take off with the bag? What is wrong with you?”

“He . . . he had a knife. I wasn’t going to argue with him!”

She rubbed the side of her face, angry at her assistant manager. But she couldn’t outright fire him. There would be an investigation now by the company and she was already in trouble for having bad turnover. Aziraphale would be protected as long as the higher-ups were asking their questions. God knows they never blamed the employee who got robbed, although none to date had been robbed of the day’s deposit bag, to her knowledge. He should have been more careful. 

“Why did you walk out here alone?”

“I was the only one working.”

“There’s an entire building full of employees closing up shop for the night. Is it that hard to find yourself a partner to walk out with after dark?” Gloria paced back and forth before his bench. “You have a month to find more reliable transportation than the bus, understand.”

He looked up at her in disbelief. “I don’t have the funds for a car and I was robbed right here on the pavement next to the car park. Even if I had a car, it wouldn’t have prevented this! He pulled a knife on me!”

“Find a cheap one or get that pretty boy who keeps visiting you in the shop to give you rides.”

Aziraphale blushed all the way to his ears with humiliation. Nobody wanted their boss to know about their personal life. She smiled nastily at him. 

“You’re ridiculous. You think the whole world doesn’t know about you and him? You heard me. One month or you can find a new job.”

“But . . .” he said to her retreating back.

She didn’t listen to him. Furious, she got in her own car and sped off. She was going to be spending the night explaining Aziraphale’s latest fuck-up to corporate. This was the last thing she needed on her plate. That idiot didn’t even give a decent description of the thief to the police. A tall male in a hooded sweatshirt. That could be anybody! As she pulled out of the car park, she hoped he wouldn’t get the required transportation in time. Corporate's investigation would be done and she would be able to get away with firing him.

Left alone on the bench, Aziraphale was near tears. Getting out his phone once again, he dialled a number that would with luck give him more comfort.

“Hey, Aziraphale. What’s up?”

“I . . . I hate to ask this of you, Anthony, but can you come to pick me up at the shopping centre?” 

His voice was still shaky and Anthony picked up on his distress in no time flat.

“I’ll be right there. Give me ten minutes, ok?”

“Ok.”

That was that. Anthony didn’t ask questions but drove over as quick as he could because his friend needed him. The Bentley pulled up in the promised ten minutes, Anthony leaping out to assist Aziraphale off the bench and into the passenger seat. He made sure Aziraphale was comfortable before getting in and taking off towards Soho. Glancing over worriedly at him, he decided to ask him what happened.

Aziraphale was silent for a moment after he asked the question. Finally, he spoke. “I was robbed. He took the deposit bag and my manager is furious. I’m to find more reliable transportation or find another job.”

“Are you ok?” Unlike anyone else who was privy to his situation, Anthony looked concerned for him.

“I had a fright. I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get you home, angel. You’ve been through a lot.”

Angel? Nobody, his parents aside, had ever given him a nickname. Or at least one he liked. More than one person had shortened his long name to “Zira” of which he didn’t approve. But “angel” coming from Anthony’s mouth was not mocking or mean or anything other than sweet. He felt soft inside despite the disaster he had gotten himself involved in.

“Thank you. For the ride.”

“Anytime you need one.”

Anthony parked the Bentley in front of the bookshop, this time in a spot where he wouldn’t find the wheels clamped later if he was to leave it. He gazed over at Aziraphale with concern in his strange nearly-yellow eyes. Aziraphale was looking at the building with dread in his beautiful blue eyes. It broke Anthony’s heart to see him like that. Reaching out, he put a hand on Aziraphale’s.

“I’ll stay.”

They walked up the steps to his door together, Aziraphale too shaky to put the key in the lock. Anthony gently took it from him and unlocked the door, guiding him in and taking his bag from him. 

“Where do you keep this?” 

“On the coat stand.” 

Aziraphale pointed behind the door. Anthony closed it and hung up the bag before looking around. It was homey and cluttered with books, antiques and other items that were important to Aziraphale. Anthony found it a far cry from his minimalist flat without much personalisation to it, besides the art. He couldn’t bear to bring much into his grandmother’s living space, even though it was now his. 

Aziraphale had taken off his coat and seated himself on the ancient couch covered in blue and red paisley blankets. He looked like someone who had been told the world was about to end. Anthony sat down beside him and with a gentle touch, rubbed his arm to soothe him. He didn’t know quite what to say or do, but he hoped being here helped Aziraphale somewhat. He wanted more than anything to take this scared angel into his arms, hold him close and tell him he’d never let anyone hurt him ever again. 

“It’s ok. You did nothing wrong. This kind of thing happens sometimes. It’s better you hand over the money than risk getting beaten.”

“Stabbed.”

“Stabbed? They pulled a knife on you? Oh, Aziraphale. I’m so sorry. That must have been frightening.”

“I think I want some tea.”

“I’ll make it. Tell me where you keep all the stuff.”

Anthony got up and made for the kitchen, which had its share of clutter but still had counter space on which to work. With a little instruction from Aziraphale, he found the cups and tea. Filling the kettle he put it on before returning to the couch to sit with him again. He was of more use there than standing around the kitchen waiting for the kettle to whistle at him.

“You could have been killed. What was your manager thinking when she got angry at you like that? You need a new job.”

Aziraphale hunched there, miserable, nodding at Anthony in reply. It was more than Anthony could take.

“Can I hug you?”

Aziraphale gazed up at him in surprise. Anthony grinned, pushing a tendril of red hair back behind his ear with the rest of it. 

“Hey, I kissed you earlier. I figured why not? You need it.”

Aziraphale nodded his blond head shyly, uncrossing his arms and holding them out. Soon he had Anthony’s thin frame against his chest, warm and reassuring. He felt the tears start to come as he placed his chin against Anthony’s shoulder, felt him stroke his back, his long fingers brushing down Aziraphale’s back to soothe him. Aziraphale could feel his tears wet Anthony’s black shirt and felt awkward about crying in front of someone he’d known for about a week. He started to pull back.

“It’s all right.” Anthony’s voice had a soft calm quality to it. “You stay right there. I don’t mind. You cry if you need to.”

They stayed like that until the kettle went off, prompting Anthony to fetch him a tissue and run off to the kitchen while calling over his shoulder that he’d return as soon as possible. Aziraphale listened to the sounds of him making tea coming through the doorway between the kitchen and living room and somehow felt calmer. He smiled when he saw the lanky redhead return with two mugs of tea.

“One moment. I saw your sugar bowl in there and I’ll grab the milk.”

“There’s a little pitcher for it in the right cabinet next to the fridge. Second shelf.”

A door squeaked open. “Got it.”

He returned with the mismatched sugar bowl and milk pitcher. Aziraphale had bought them separately at antique shops because he found them quaint even if they weren’t a set. Placing them on the coffee table with a couple of spoons, he sat there. 

“There. I’m not good for much, but I can make tea if I need to.”

“Thank you, my dear boy. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Dear boy? We need to work on your language. Bring it up into the twenty-first century.”

Aziraphale smiled at him again as he added milk and sugar to his tea. Anthony added nothing to his and barely took a sip of it as he sat on the couch with Aziraphale talking until it was well past ten. Finally having little more to say, Aziraphale looked up at the clock and froze.

“Oh, I’ve kept you so late.”

He fidgeted there, winding his fingers around each other like he did when he felt he had overstepped his bounds with someone. Anthony reached out to grasp Aziraphale’s hands in his. “No. Don’t worry about it. I don’t have to be into work until later so it’s fine. Look at you. You’re still scared as anything. I’m not leaving you here alone. Is there anyone who can come stay with you? Parent? Sibling? Friend? Well, I consider myself your newest friend, if you don’t mind that, but a friend you’ve known longer than me?”

“Most of my friends and I grew apart and I wasn’t raised here. My parents are on vacation in Spain and I don’t have siblings.”

“Then I’ll have to do.” He looked around. “Is this place one or two bedrooms? If it’s only one, I’ll sleep on the couch. Not a problem.”

“You don’t have to stay. I can manage on my own.” 

But he was near tears and shaking, making it evident that being alone wasn’t the best idea. 

“I can’t in good conscience leave you here by yourself in your state.” Anthony caressed Aziraphale’s round cheek, running his hand over the soft skin. “You’re a mess right now and that’s ok. You had quite a scare.”

“It’s only one bedroom, but I have extra sheets and blankets so the couch will be more comfortable for you.”

“How do you feel about dinner? Up for it? I can order us something since I don’t cook that well and you wouldn’t want to eat it. There are still some places open even though it’s late. What’s that?”

Demeter had chosen now to stroll in. Anthony looked down at the queen in Aziraphale’s life, her beautiful eyes looking upon him, assessing if he was worthy. He stared back at her, never having been that great with animals. He remembered the horse riding lessons from his youth. He couldn’t stay on the bloody beasts and cats were worse than horses. Cats had Attitude and weren’t afraid to use it. A horse may have had attitude, but it wasn’t with a capital letter and was usually directed at getting someone off their back. A cat would do what they could to make your life miserable.

“Uh, hi,” he said lamely.

“That’s Demeter. She’s my Himalayan.” 

Aziraphale scooped her up to cuddle her close, murmuring things Anthony couldn’t pick up at in her ear while the damn animal glared at him smugly. He felt like the cat had declared war on him. He wondered if it was a war he could win as he watched Aziraphale snuggle her, putting his face into her long fur while she purred her loudest. Anthony was convinced that loud purr was for his benefit. She might as well have been telling him Aziraphale was hers. 

“It’s about two hours past her usual feeding time. I’ll take her in the kitchen and get her some cat food. She might be a little grouchy from hunger. Usually, she likes other people.”

“Oh.”

He disappeared with the little pest while Anthony stood on the spot wondering what to do next. He decided the best idea was cleaning up the mess from the tea. He grabbed the mugs to take in the kitchen, setting them in the sink and ignoring the cat eating in the far corner. Returning to the living room, he gathered up the sugar bowl and milk pitcher next. One he set on the counter, the other he placed in the fridge. He didn’t know if Aziraphale kept the milk in the pitcher or poured it back in the carton. Better safe than sorry.

“Oh, thank you.” Aziraphale smiled when he was what Anthony had done, appreciative of the gesture. 

“Not a problem. You had to feed your cat. Come sit down. We can decide if we want dinner and what to order.”

They sat together on the couch, Aziraphale silent but occasionally sniffing. Anthony was patient with him, waiting for him to get over the emotions again before he spoke. 

“It’s ok. It’s going to come and go. I had a cousin who was robbed. It’s a traumatic experience so let it out when you need to. I won’t judge.”

“So, now what?”

“We don’t dwell on it. That’ll make it worse. Talk about it when you need to, but otherwise, let’s get your mind on other things. Do you like films?”

“Yes. Period pieces are especially good. Sometimes I enjoy a well-done fantasy or sci-fi film. Sometimes the occasional comedy.”

“Action’s good, but I’m not picky. I managed to rewatch all the Avengers films before I had to go get a job again. We can see what’s on Netflix that you’d like. Do you have that? If you don’t, I do. I can set it up here.”

Aziraphale turned away with a blush and pointed at his ancient television that was large and boxy, unlike the sleek models of today. “I only have that. All I get are the BBC channels and the like.”

Anthony smiled at him with a chuckle. “Well, you’re in luck. I was hanging around a coffee shop with my laptop when you called. It’s still in the car because I was more worried about you. Give me a minute and I’ll go get it.”

He was out the door and down the stairs in a dash, his keys out to unlock the Bentley and grab the computer bag out of his backseat. Slinging the strap over his shoulder, he locked everything back up and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He knocked before opening the door to poke his head in. 

“It’s me. I got the laptop.”

Swinging the door open, he entered and was sure to lock it behind him when he shut it. It would help Aziraphale’s state of mind to have that security in place even though this was a safe area anymore, unlike the Soho of twenty years ago. But the shopping centre should have been safe as well and look at what happened there. He had a knife shoved in his face, the money on him taken and his bitch of a boss in his face angry about something that was beyond his control. Anthony became livid at that thought, but now was not the time for anger. Settling his emotions down, he set the bag on the coffee table and slid out his computer. It was, of course, a state-of-the-art gaming model. The exterior was black and the keys lit up red. 

“Nice. I’ve heard good things about that model. I do need to get one for uni. Do you game?”

“Sometimes when I’m bored. Although I haven’t much lately. I was doing it tonight at the coffee shop because I didn’t feel like being home and I wasn’t in the mood to hit the clubs. I don’t know . . . sometimes I get into these unsocial moods.”

He flipped up the screen and turned it on, the keys glowing as it booted up. Aziraphale pointed him to an outlet for its plug. 

“I suppose you don’t have internet?”

“No.”

“I’ve got unlimited data on my phone. I’ll turn it into a hot spot.” 

“That’s clever.”

Aziraphale was impressed, but he knew so little about technology beyond what he needed to to get by that almost anything Anthony said would have impressed him. He watched Anthony get everything set up. As he concentrated on the screen, his shoulder-length red hair sometimes fell into his face while he fiddled with his phone then the laptop. One last unconscious swipe to put a tendril behind his ear again and he looked up at Aziraphale with a broad smile.

“I have Netflix, Hulu, Britbox, you name it. If it’s a streaming service, I’m probably subscribed. So, let’s choose something.”

“My mother used to watch Doctor Who reruns with me when I was young. I feel like watching that again.” He recalled sitting on the couch with his mum cuddled up under a cosy blanket while the Doctor went on adventures on the television in front of him. It was a comforting thought.

“Have you seen any of the reboot?”

“No.”

“We’re starting with Nine, then.” Anthony was rapidly typing something into his web browser then clicking on the touchpad before typing once again. A few more clicks and Doctor Who Series One, Episode One “Rose" was ready to play. He adjusted the laptop on the coffee table and looked at Aziraphale.

“Can you see it ok? We’re going to have sit rather close.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I don’t mind that at all.” 

Shoulder-to-shoulder, they sat on Aziraphale’s ancient couch, binge-watching Doctor Who. Halfway through the second episode, Aziraphale reached up to pull one of the paisley blankets on the back of the couch over both their shoulders. Surprised, Anthony looked over at him, smiled then reached for his hand under the blanket. They spent the entire run of the first series like that, Aziraphale eventually laying his head on Anthony’s shoulder.


	6. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony spends time with Aziraphale while Michael plots to break them up and Gabriel attempts some networking to further his business interests.

Aziraphale remembered laying down to sleep after getting the couch ready for Anthony but recalled little beyond that except for a moment of tossing and turning while dark images invaded his dreams until a kind voice chased them away. Waking up early the next morning, thankful it was a Friday and his one class was cancelled, he rolled over on his side, pulling the old quilt he was covered with up to his chin. He sniffed, smelling bacon. Bacon? He didn’t have anything in the house to eat for breakfast except for oatmeal; he hadn’t had time to buy groceries this week. 

Curious, he climbed out of bed and grabbed his dressing robe, throwing it on over the t-shirt and loose shorts he wore to bed. He followed the delicious odour out into the living room then through the kitchen door where he found Anthony at the cooker making eggs. The bacon sat ready on a plate on the counter beside it. Despite what Anthony had said about being able to burn water, it looked mouthwatering. 

“Morning,” Aziraphale said.

Anthony, who had had his back to him, turned with a smile as he held a spatula poised to turn an egg. “Morning. Just a moment.”

He got back to eggs, flipping them on to the plate that held the bacon. Only when this was done did he give Aziraphale his full attention. God, the blond looked beautiful even rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His curls stuck wildly out from his head, framing his face in the most enchanting manner. Anthony couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“I thought you couldn’t cook.”

“Normally I can’t, but I learned to make bacon and eggs. It’s my mom’s favourite breakfast and when she was laid up after some surgery, I made them for her every morning. So, yeah . . . one breakfast dish I can do. Everything else, forget it. I hope you like them fried. I have no idea how to make scrambled.”

Aziraphale stared adoringly at him in return. “Thank you. I do so appreciate all you have done.”

He was so handsome with his shoulder-length red hair. His black shirt was rumpled, and on his lower half he was wearing only boxers and an attitude that stated he didn’t care Aziraphale saw him in those. His skinny legs looked even longer without anything covering them. Aziraphale felt a little self-conscious about his own plump physical form but tried to let that attitude slide. Anthony didn’t seem to mind he wasn’t slim.

“It’s nothing.”

Aziraphale had walked over by now and standing beside him examining the eggs. “They look delicious.”

He reached over to give Anthony a peck on the cheek. Realising what he had done, his eyes grew wide while he stumbled backwards, almost running into the cat’s bowl that lay less than a metre behind him. 

“Oh! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that!”

“Why not? I don’t mind if you kiss me.” Anthony’s face became very soft. “I quite enjoy it.”

“I enjoy it, too.” 

Anthony, noticing the empty pan starting to smoke, turned off the cooker before leaning in close to Aziraphale. He could see deeply into his clear blue eyes and Aziraphale noticed just how much metallic gold made up Anthony’s. They stood together, frozen, afraid to move lest the spell be broken. Finally, Anthony spoke.

“Let’s do it again.”

Aziraphale cupped Anthony’s face in his hands, feeling the soft hair at his temples as he reached in to kiss him once again, anticipating the feel of his lips against his own. Mouths touched briefly before the sensation became stronger as they both put their all behind it. Nor did it stay as chaste as last time. This was no innocent first kiss, lips placed carefully on lips in the most delicate of fashions in case things didn’t go right. This drew them in deeper and caused them to realise that maybe there was such a thing as love at first sight. Aziraphale felt dizzy at this prospect, clinging to Anthony as if he might tumble forward to the kitchen floor thanks to this revelation.

He could sense Demeter’s insistent meow somewhere in the distance followed by an angry hiss, but he ignored both. Anthony was poking at his lips with his tongue and it felt the most natural thing in the world to open them and let him in. It was such a sweet tentative touch as if Anthony was afraid of scaring him off. But despite all appearances, Aziraphale was far from some fragile bookworm that the realities of life would eventually run roughshod over. He pushed his own tongue against Anthony’s with a muffled moan, tasting him in return. He could feel his hands stroking the long red hair beneath them, but it was almost like they weren’t connected to him.

The muffled noise was almost Anthony’s undoing. Aziraphale was making sounds that told him loud and clear he wanted him. Truly wanted him and he fed that want right back. It was going so fast, not that Anthony didn’t go fast at times, but that was for quick flings, not something that felt like love. He didn’t know if he had ever found love before, although he was very sure that was exactly the emotion he was experiencing with Aziraphale. He didn’t want to let go. To let go seemed like losing a part of himself. Aziraphale was too precious to release, even though he just found him.

Yet breakfast would cool off and Anthony was convinced that cat would jump up on the counter then leap right between them to break things up so she could be fed. And the kiss broke off. Two blushing young men stood awkwardly face-to-face before Aziraphale ducked away, off to get cat food for Demeter. 

Anthony rummaged through cabinets for plates as he listened to Aziraphale coo at that animal. He swore she was giving him the most self-satisfied look he had ever seen on the face of a pet. Narrowing his eyes at her, he glared until she finally looked away. Maybe he won that stare-off. Maybe she decided food was more interesting.

“There you go, my darling. Breakfast is served.” Aziraphale smiled down at her, giving a few strokes of her long fur before leaving her to her meal. 

He walked over to Anthony, who had set the plates on the small kitchen table then put the platter containing the eggs and bacon between them. Aziraphale fetched some forks and cups for tea. 

“I can make that,” he told Anthony and went to fill the kettle.

They ate while they waited, not wanting to allow their food more time to cool. The egg yolks were already starting to congeal but that hardly mattered. Anthony could cook a good breakfast even if it had cooled somewhat and it was made even better by the company. He almost couldn’t help but smile as they ate. 

“I remember some awful dreams then a soothing voice made them go away. It was quite an odd night,” he said. “I guess that would be the robbery.”

“You don’t remember waking up screaming?”

“Not at all.” A feeling of alarm crept over Aziraphale.

“I came in and sat by the bed to talk to you. It calmed you down a lot. But that’s all I did; I promise.”

“Thank you. That couldn’t have been easy listening to me carry on like that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for reacting to a bad experience.”

“All right. I’ve just. . .kind of depended on you a lot and we’ve only met.”

“Don’t worry about it. It feels right.”

“I feel that, too.”

They finished breakfast in companionable silence then cleared the table together. 

“Do you work today?”

“No. And my class was cancelled.”

“Good. You need a stress-free day after last night. I don’t work until four so I can hang out here if you’d like.”

Aziraphale blushed, ducking beneath the plate he was holding as he plucked it from the dish rack to dry. He rubbed the towel a little more vigorously than usual over it. 

“I’d like that very much.”

~*~*~

“What do you mean you’re at Aziraphale’s place?” demanded Bee into their phone as they took Cerberus for his morning walk. 

The dog dragged their small frame along in his excitement to get to the next post, tree or tall tuft of grass that just might require watering. Bee yanked slightly on the leash to get him to heel. He’d listen to them for a moment before going back to nearly choking himself with his collar in his excitement. They dug in this time, stopping on the pavement so they could listen to Anthony without distraction. This new relationship of his was getting interesting. 

“ _He got robbed at knifepoint last night and he had nobody else, so I stayed with him._ ”

“So, you didn’t fuck him or anything.”

“ _No!_ ” Anthony sounded downright disgusted. “ _What do you take me for? I slept on the couch and now I could go for a massage. Not used to that._ ”

“Get your new boyfriend to give you one. And doesn’t he have other friends or family or something?”

“ _Not living close._ ”

“You used to take everything to bed that showed an interest in you _._ ” Bee started walking again now that Cerberus seemed to have calmed down a bit. He tugged ahead but trotted politely on the leash as they conversed.

“ _For like a year. You act like I’ve been serial mattress hopping for the last twenty._ ”

Cerberus stopped to soak something yet again. Bee sighed at both their dog and their brother. Why did they even bother anymore? The one was stupid and the other was smitten so badly they hoped he didn’t get hurt. Aziraphale seemed a strange choice for Anthony to be having a strong attraction to. “I don’t know what to say.”

“ _You called for some reason, not to just keep tabs on me._ ”

“No, pretty much that’s why I called. And to say I need to borrow a few quid. I don’t get paid until next Friday.” Guilt crept into their voice. They hated asking Anthony for money, but moving with all its expenses had wiped out what little savings they had, and to add insult to injury, their old car needed work done.

“ _Some of that money’s yours. Borrowing is not required, Bee. I work at four. You going to be at the shop_?”

“From noon on.”

“ _See you there. Bye._ ”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Cerberus has stopped to look up at Bee, his head cocked in that characteristic manner of his. They shrugged and scratched him between the ears before moving on again, heading around the corner towards home. He trotted excitedly along, wagging his tail at every person or dog they encountered in their path. Bee kept a tight leash on him for even if he was friendly, they did not trust every other dog out there was. Not only did they not want harm to come to their beloved canine, right now vet bills were not something they could afford. Uni was looking better every day, as they could see the prospect of a better job with some kind of degree. 

Sometimes parts of them wanted to kick themselves for not taking the money. But the trust was now in Anthony’s name only and even though their parents would be more than happy to put them back on, there was a certain distaste to it. Nobody wanted to go crawling back to their parents begging for their trust fund after spitting in their faces like that. They still had good relations with their family, but some words were exchanged that left barbs in everyone’s hearts. Bee did not want to drag those back up to the surface again. Best to keep on the way they were. Anthony had no problem sharing and it was a good thing, too, with her bills and few frivolous wants she indulged in. Her hair was going to need dyeing soon. She liked it black rather than its natural dishwater blonde shade. Anthony got the good hair colour. And the height. 

Trudging up the stairs to the flat, they nearly tripped over the bag of garbage before the door. Letting Cerberus off his leash, they stormed into the living room. It was empty. Turning on their heel to head down the hall, they banged on Ligur’s bedroom door, furious. He opened it looking upset to be disturbed. 

“What?”

“Take your fucking trash to the bin. I almost killed myself tripping on it.”

“Fine. Can I get a shirt on first?”

“Whatever. Just get it done.”

The door slammed. Heading out the back door for a smoke, they heard Ligur make his way to the front one, muttering the entire way that garbage wasn’t picked up for another two days and some other nonsense. Blowing out smoke and hoping the nicotine helped their frazzled nerves, they snapped at him.

“What the hell does the day garbage is picked up have to do with where you leave it?” They yelled at him through the open door. 

“I had two more days to get it to the bin.” He glowered at them. “Shut the door. I don’t want to smell that shit.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who puts god-knows-what into his body on a regular basis.” Bee slammed the door shut and took another drag on her cigarette. 

They regretted it was too early to start drinking. It wouldn’t do to show up drunk to work, either. They sat down, propped up against the building and tried to enjoy the nice morning out on the small porch.

Inside, Ligur’s phone was ringing with a call from Michael. He didn’t want to speak with her right now, wanting more to find Hastur to see what he could buy off of him, but he answered it anyway. Sometimes she had some good information he could use to his advantage. Flopping down on his unmade bed, he pushed some dirty clothes aside and answered it. 

“Yeah?”

“ _Did I wake you?_ ”

“No, my roommate did that with their bitching.”

“ _Oh, sorry._ ” She got right to the point. “ _You’ve been around longer than I have. I heard rumours that Bee is related to Anthony Crowley?_ ”

“Not rumours.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“I see he got all the looks.”

“ _Beside the point. I need you to figure out where that boyfriend of his works. Blond hair, kind of overweight, tall, but shorter than Anthony_.” 

“Why do you care who Crowley’s dating?”

“ _I want to break them up._ ”

“God, you’re petty.”

“ _Last night working with him was it. I can’t take any more of his attitude. I need to befriend the boyfriend and start working things from the inside._ ”

“If that’s how you want to spend your life. Throw a few quid my way and we’ll discuss it.”

“ _Meet me in half an hour at that park near your flat._ ”

Ligur had no qualms about doing favours for payment. Hanging up, he rolled off his head to search his clothing-strewn bedroom for his beanie. Digging through several piles of clothing, other items and just plain garbage he hadn’t bothered to put in a bag and take to the kerb, he eventually located it. Stretching the ratty hat over his head, he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Besides a few quid, he’d get some time to cool off. Bee wasn’t a bad roommate, yet they could act like a nag at times if he didn’t bother to pick up his messes. 

Bee listened to him go, staying outside until the need for coffee drove them inside again.

~*~*~

“He was robbed,” the blond was saying. “We should have been there to stop it.”

The redhead scowled as he leaned on the building across from Aziraphale’s flat. Nobody on the streets seemed to take notice of them, although pedestrians on the pavement did step around them as if they weren’t sure why they were stepping around that certain area. A few looked around confused after they did so; others were too busy on their phones to notice the difference. The two man-shaped beings paid none of the passersby any mind.

“That was meant to happen. Look, Anthony stayed at Aziraphale’s place. If that’s not building on their relationship, I don’t know what is.”

“Can we call him something other than Aziraphale?”

“That is his name, you know.”

“It’s awkward.”

“You think Anthony isn’t?”

“It seems to be a little less awkward. You don’t particularly use it.”

The redhead rolled eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The blond was well-aware of his reaction. They’d known each other too long for him not to pick up on subtle forms of irritation from his companion. 

“We can call him ‘Zira’ for short. If he’s anything like you, he hates cutesy nicknames. Heh, yeah. Zira.”

“It’ll do.” The blond sighed. “Do you think they did anything?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s a little soon.”

“Well, they don’t have six thousand years for a slow burn romance, angel. They need to be a bit quicker about it or this whole ‘butterfly flaps its wings’ nonsense is going to happen. Let’s go.”

“But. . .”

“Oi!”

The two of them disappeared around the corner. A bluish light shone with a crackling noise, then all was quiet again.

~*~*~

“Well, so you’re Anthony Crowley.” 

Gabriel was in the shopping centre hallway as Anthony headed up to give Bee some much-needed funds. Not used to being accosted by men in light grey suits wearing smarmy smiles, Anthony blinked at him with a nod. 

“Yeah? Why do you want to know?”

He looked at his shoulder as Gabriel clapped him on it, wishing this stranger would just leave him alone.

“Your family’s name is quite well-known in my circles. I’m Gabriel Barcroft. My family is involved in the Midtown Merchant’s Club, same as yours. It would be great to meet with your father and pick his brain on running a very successful business. I was wondering if you could put me in touch?”

“I would, but he and my mum are in Argentina right now out on the plains enjoying themselves.” Anthony waved an arm around in a vague gesture. “Something about it being relaxing watching South American cowboys do their thing. It’s all traditional, you know. I’ll let him know you were asking after him.”

He smiled with a wink before striding into Macabre. His parents were very much at home doing whatever it was they did around three-thirty every day. Maybe they were getting ready for high tea in half an hour; you couldn’t be too sure. He didn’t pay that close attention to their itinerary since he moved out on his own. He also didn’t notice Gabriel watching him enter the shop to meet with Bee.

“Hey Bee, the prat next door doesn’t realise I’m your brother.”

“He doesn’t realise much. I imagine he’s inhaled too many fumes from all that hair gel he uses. What is he doing now?”

“Asking me to do a little networking with dad and mum with him.”

“Sounds about right. Thanks.” With a discreet motion, they took the envelope of cash Anthony offered. 

Gabriel watched the two converse with narrowed eyes. For coming from a family with a lot of connections and money, Anthony sure wasn’t great about picking the right friends. He headed back to his shop before the two noticed with a plan. He was going to convince Anthony he needed better people to hang around. Like him, for instance. Why should Sandy get all the benefits of having an influential businessman’s son as part of his staff? With that thought, Gabriel decided he was going to be Anthony’s new best friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I need to do more with the cat. I seem to be writing all her scenes around feeding time. 😂


	7. Laughter and Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Something hard slammed into them, knocking them to the ground which their head slammed into hard. Vision swimming with vertigo, Bee’s swirling vision left them unable to stand. The entire shop spun darkly in front of their eyes as they struggled to get up. They fought anyway, swinging wildly in a mad attempt to harm their attackers, but they were losing the battle to stay conscious and collapsed to the floor, limp._
> 
> Dagon wants more than a friendship with Bee and Anthony is willing to help her out. Gabriel tries to cosy up to Anthony while Aziraphale decides to be bolder. Also, when Bee's shop is vandalized, mysterious strangers come to the rescue.

_A Month Later_

Anthony stood out on his balcony enjoying a quick cigarette before Bee showed up, completing the quiet party he was throwing this Friday evening. Straddling a patio chair backwards with the ashtray on the table to his right, he casually flicked ash into it without paying much attention to where said ash landed. Inside on the white leather furniture were Dagon and Aziraphale who were conversing with him through the open door as he indulged his bad habit. He knew very well Aziraphale did not approve.

“You have to give them time. They’ll come around and you know it. I can see the crush there and God knows Bee does their best to hide absolutely everything from me,” he was saying to Dagon who was now determined to win Bee’s heart, even if it was a slow and painful process. “You forgot I grew up with them. And you two are perfect for each other.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” replied Dagon, taking a sip of her beer. “Ok, that sounded sarcastic as fuck. Sorry. I am appreciating the help here. Bee’s a tough person to get to know well.” She looked around, not having been in Anthony’s flat for quite some time since they all had become busy lately. “And I know I say this every time, but damn, boy . . . you got quite a place here. Why didn’t Bee want a piece of this?”

Anthony took a moment to breathe out smoke before answering. “It was only willed to me by my grandmother. My grandparents kept their first home in Crystal Palace and that was offered to them because Grandmum thought Cerberus needed a garden. But you know how stubborn they are. It’s being rented out and the money funnelled into the trust. And yes, Bee has every right to the trust money. Mum and Dad’ll put them back on it if they ask. Or whatever has to be done legally. Bee just won’t swallow their pride to do it.”

Anthony had finished his smoke and was shutting the balcony door behind him. Heading to the couch he had a seat next to Aziraphale, who pulled a container of mints out of his pocket and offered them to him. Sighing in an overly dramatic fashion, Anthony took one and Aziraphale patted his knee with a smile before scooting in closer. 

“Only for you, angel,” Anthony murmured as he popped the mint in his mouth.

Dagon watched them, an amused smile crossing her face and shook her head causing a lock of her reddish-brown hair to fall loose of the ponytail she had it in. She brushed it out of her eyes almost automatically, chuckling at the cute new couple across from her. 

“You two,” she said as she put a leg up over the arm of her chair.

“Oi! Careful! That chair’s worth more than you.”

“Anthony, really.” Aziraphale gave him a bit of a reproachful look. “You could try asking nicely for once.”

“Oooh, reprimanded by the boyfriend!”

Loud peals of laughter escaped from Dagon who tried her best to keep the beer left in her bottle from tipping out. Anthony was up on his feet snatching it away from her to place on the elegant glass coffee table that right now held only two glasses of wine and a coffee table book on post-modern art. Having averted disaster — the carpets in this place were a light grey that would stain easily — he grabbed Dagon’s leg, using it to swing her around into a more conventional seating position. The white leather chair he carefully examined for any marks, although he needn’t have worried as he demanded everyone remove their shoes before entering the flat.

“Keep them on the floor.”

“I know. This is a classy joint.”

“Dagon . . .” Anthony’s irritation was showing. “You know I was nice enough to have this little get-together so you could start trying to woo my sibling. A little gratefulness in the form of manners would be appreciated.”

“Ok, sorry.” 

He returned to the couch, where Aziraphale proceeded to soothe him by stroking his long hair, looking at him like a mother hen would an agitated chick. When he realized he was performing an action he considered too intimate for company in front of Dagon, he ceased. Feeling some embarrassment, he instead grabbed Anthony’s hand, interlacing his plumper fingers with Anthony’s slim ones. Anthony raised it to his mouth and kissed him on the knuckles while Dagon rolled her eyes.

“Can you two do that later?”

Aziraphale turned a lovely shade of red from ears to neck. Anthony really didn’t care what Dagon thought since he had known her for some time now. He considered kissing Aziraphale directly on the lips right then and there just to further aggravate her, but Aziraphale was the sensitive type when it came to displays of affection in front of others and Anthony would always respect his views first before choosing to pull a stunt that would mortify him. It was rendered a moot point, anyway. The front door slammed distracting them all from any argument that just might break out concerning kissing one’s boyfriend in front of company. 

“Hey, losers. I finally made it.” A very tired-looking Bee sank into the empty white leather chair across from Dagon, who looked ready to rush over to give her whatever comfort she was able to offer. 

“Long day?” she asked. 

“Very. It apparently was ‘Bring Your Small Child Into The Goth Store Day’ today.”

Anthony had got up to go fetch a bottle of their favourite beer and had returned, dangling it in front of them. “And you wonder why I don’t work there any more? People are absolute pigs. I spent half my time cleaning up the messes they made.”

“You don’t work anywhere very long, so don’t give me that.” They took the beer from him with a nod of thanks and curled up on the chair to drink it.

“I don’t see the point,” he said as he returned to the couch. “I don’t need the money, aggravation and I know plenty of working-class people so it’s not like I’m in danger of becoming some spoilt snob.”

“We’re not starting this argument again,” interrupted Dagon loudly. “Are we going to get takeaway or what?”

“Yeah, I’ll get it ordered. Was just waiting on Bee.” Anthony pulled out his iPhone and wandered into the kitchen where he could hear better. 

Aziraphale, while having become friends with Bee and Dagon, was still rather uncomfortable in their presence when Anthony was not around. He shifted his position on the couch nervously as they both looked at him with enquiring glances. Smiling, he folded his hands in his lap while hoping the silence wouldn’t last long or Anthony would return in short order. 

Bee observed the nervous fidgeting and chuckled. “We won’t bite unless you ask, you know.” 

They liked him. He had only been in Anthony’s life a short time now, but he appeared to be very good for their brother. 

“How’re things with your job?” asked Dagon.

“Anthony’s been taking me every time I work. I don’t know how he managed it, but he has identical hours to mine.” The beaming smile on Aziraphale’s face showed how much he really did appreciate his boyfriend’s efforts.

“He does have his sweet side if you can learn to put up with him when he’s being a sardonic arsehole.” Bee took a drink of her beer. “But he really wouldn’t be in any fun if he was one-dimensional.”

“Who would?” asked Dagon.

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, although sometimes he did feel like a one-dimensional doormat the way he didn’t stand up to his boss. Or because he sat here acting introverted when there was no reason to be. “Yes, I’ve seen the sarcastic side. But we all have our stresses and our quirks, don’t we?” 

Anthony had been sarcastic with him on one occasion when he had been stressed from a long lousy day at the restaurant and while Aziraphale had been taken aback at first, he came to realize that part of what made them work as a couple was his ability to let it slide instead of becoming upset. He could be a soothing influence on the redhead, who did occasionally act the stereotype. But he was not going to be as forgiving when it came to the smoking, though. That habit was simply going to have to go — Aziraphale needed to figure out how beyond his current passive-aggressive action of offering mints and refusing to get close if Anthony didn’t take them. 

“You taste acidic and a bit like cigarette smoke after you’ve had one. That’s nasty,” he had told him and soon after, Anthony cut down to around three a day. Aziraphale worried about his health, too, but knew it would be easier to get him to quit if he framed it in regard to their budding relationship. Almost every smoker was hounded about the unhealthy aspects of it to the point it slid off their backs.

Speak of the devil, Anthony had walked back into the room, shoving his phone back in his pocket as he pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door. “Everything’s ordered. It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes. C’mon, Aziraphale. Let’s go get it.” He looked at Bee and Dagon. 

“You two choose a film. Bee knows all the passwords if something got logged out or whatever.”

“Don’t forget chopsticks,” Dagon called after their retreating forms.

“Got it!”

Bee and Dagon moved to the couch to better see Anthony’s ridiculously large television, Bee picking up the remote and pulling up Hulu first. They looked over some selections, had discussions and finally moved on to another streaming service, repeating the process until they found a film all four of them could agree upon. Bee left it ready to play, which they would do after dinner. Anthony was a stickler about not eating in the living room. Bee, on the other hand, was lucky to have the energy to do the washing up directly after a meal on the couch. 

“How’s your application for uni coming along?” Dagon asked casually.

“I’m almost done. Why are you taking such an interest in it?”

Dagon shrugged, looking down at her hands in her lap. She was still too embarrassed to allow her real feelings for Bee shine through. “Because you deserve better than some stupid managership of a store in a shopping centre that’s never going to pay you what you’re worth.” 

She looked up at Bee. “You’d be great in business. Finance or something. You have the head for it.”

Bee shrugged. “That would mean wearing a suit to work every day at some office.”

“Yes, it would. Funny how that works, isn’t it? You get a good job, and they prefer you wear clothes that don’t look like they’re in need of repair.” Dagon gestured to Bee’s artfully torn jeans. “C’mon, Bee. You’re making excuses. You have more options than most people. Anthony said you could have your grandparents’ old house in Crystal Palace.”

Bee turned red and looked away. “He should have kept his mouth shut.”

“He’s trying to take care of you. We all are because we see you . . . well . . . sinking.”

Bee looked absolutely miserable. “I’m trying to get out of that hole. That’s why I’m going back to uni.”

“Can I ask why you refused the trust?”

“Grandfather didn’t pay employees well and made a lot on their backs. It’s blood money. Dad and Mum changed that, but it’s still tainted.”

Bee was always one to stick to their principles. Dagon felt like smacking them upside the head for it because there was being a champion for good and there was shooting yourself in the foot. Bee was doing the latter quite well right now.

“You know you could have donated some of it to charity and kept enough to keep yourself comfortable.”

“Now you tell me that!”

“You shouldn’t have been so dim in the first place,” said Dagon, always looking at the practical side of things. “But let’s stop this. We’re here for you now. You got a brother who will pay for uni and I’m going to be on your back to stay in it.”

“Great,” muttered Bee.

“And if you’re not careful, I’ll get Aziraphale involved. He’ll be more than happy to help you set up good study habits.”

Bee launched one of the couch’s throw pillows at her. Dagon ducked with a laugh.

With the newly lightened mood, they spoke of other subjects until the boys came back with arms laden with Chinese food. Dagon breathed in the smell of roast duck and got up to go help them carry it all to the kitchen. Bee was already getting out plates as they placed the containers on the table, Dagon excited to see her favourite crispy noodles with black bean sauce which she forgot to mention when they were putting together orders. Anthony always remembered.

“You are a bastard, you know,” she said to him. “But one with a nice side.”

“Nope, never nice,” he replied. “I just don’t want to listen to you complain, that’s all.”

They sat down to a wonderful dinner together, talking and laughing as they ate too much Chinese food and drank too much wine, Dagon happy to see Bee enjoying themselves. Afterwards, the boys loaded the dishwasher while Dagon and Bee did the washing up of the delicate wineglasses Anthony was afraid to allow to go through the dishwasher’s rough rinse cycles even though Aziraphale argued that they would be fine. Dishes finished, they all headed to the living room to watch the film, Bee and Dagon pulling their chairs round close to the couch so that they could see the television better. It was a good evening, although Dagon wished her chair could have been closer to Bee’s.

~*~*~

Anthony sighed in exasperation wanting to chuck his serving tray as hard as he could at the back of Gabriel’s head. This was the third time this week that wanker had come in here to have lunch as a thinly disguised attempt to suck up to him. He had never seen someone so desperate to suck up to someone he felt had access to powerful people. His parents were co-presidents of some business club they were involved in, but they hardly saw themselves as movers and shakers in the business world. These days they spent their time doing philanthropy now that the kids were out of the house, not worrying about how much power they held because they owned a rather good-sized company that was seeing success.

Anthony felt his temper rise further as Michael approached, a smug look upon her face, ponytail bouncing like it did when she strutted that little strut she did when she was happy someone else was miserable.

“I see your friend’s back. He requested service from you. You know you’ll have to stay until he’s gone.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills that he shoved into her half-apron pocket. “Here’s ten quid. Go away. God knows I don’t need the money as much as you do.” 

He took off before she could start to berate him. She would probably go running to the manager on duty again, but given every single one of them was sick of her complaining, nobody would say a word to him about it. Gritting his teeth he approached Gabriel’s table. Today he was wearing a darker grey suit that made Crowley wonder if he had anything in his wardrobe other than shades of grey, not that Crowley was one to talk with his love of black. At least he, on occasion, threw some reds and greys in there. It was more variety than Gabriel showed.

“Back again, I see,” he said in a faux cheerful voice, an insincere smile plastered on his face. “Come on, Gabriel. The cheesecake isn’t that good.”

“You’re destined for bigger things, Anthony,” Gabriel replied, giving that grin that Anthony wanted to punch off his face. “I mean, working in a restaurant as a server? You can do better and I can help. I always need quality people in my shop and there is more prestige to selling quality suits than selling Americanized food to tourists.”

His phone rang, causing him to pause in his speech to answer it. Anthony waited with as much patience as he could muster, hoping that some tragedy had struck, like Gabriel’s necktie supplier mysteriously blew up, and he had to hurry off to convince another to sell their wares in his rubbish shop. The serious look on old Gabe’s face gave Anthony hope. 

“Yes . . . I understand. Is there anything we can do to change that? . . . All right . . . Uh-huh . . . I’ll get right on it.” He rose from his booth, clapping Anthony in apology on the shoulder as he stood up. “I’ll have to take a raincheck on lunch today. Some trouble with one of our best clients that I need to fix right away.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Anthony said as Gabriel hurried off, adding, “Feel free to stay away as long as you want.”

There was a business card left on the table with ‘Call me when you want a better job” scrawled across the top. Anthony picked it up with a laugh. What an arsehole. He sauntered off to talk with the girl running the bakery until he got another table, wondering what the hell a ‘raincheck’ was. If Gabriel was going to live here, he should at least leave the American slang at home.

“Why does he keep coming around?” the bakery girl asked.

Anthony held up the card between two fingers. “He wants to give me a job. Feel free to gossip about that with Michael.”

She laughed at him. “It depends on how angry I want to make her. She’s been such a stroppy cow already lately.”

“You mean she isn’t always like that?”

“Crowley!” called one of the bussers. “You got a table!”

“All right! I’m coming!”

He had only an hour and a half left. With any luck, the wankers at his new table would leave before then so he wasn’t stuck here. 

~*~*~

Aziraphale sat at the computer in the backroom staring at the complaint form he had filled out in response to his new feeling that he did need to stop being a doormat for Gloria to walk all over. His heart pounded loudly in his chest as he read it over again and again, his finger hovering over the mouse button. He was so engrossed in his indecisiveness he did not hear his fellow employee enter.

“Just send it already, Aziraphale.”

He turned to see Sarah standing behind him gathering more lotions out of a box to take to the front. Smiling nervously, he turned back to the computer. 

“She can’t do anything to you if you file a complaint against her. It’s against company policy. And that threat that she’d sack you if you didn’t get a car was way out of line. Press send and be done with it. You’ll be the hero of this shop if you get her fired or reprimanded.”

He wasn’t looking to be a hero. He was looking to be less of someone who was easily stepped on. Sighing, he pressed ‘send’ and logged out of the company website. 

“There. It’s done. Now you need to get back out on the floor. I’ll finish up inventory back here.”

“All right.”

She took the lotions out front to restock the empty shelves. Anxious, Aziraphale stayed seated at the desk for a few moments before he got up to comb through the shop’s back stock so ordering could be done on Thursday. He longed for his shift to be done so he could see Anthony. His current case of nerves was hopefully not something that couldn’t be cured with a few cuddles on the couch, and at least he didn’t have his study group tonight. That was a fairly new happening after a few of the other students decided he’d be an asset since he was doing so well in the literature class they all shared. One of them even worked at the restaurant with Anthony.

~*~*~

Bee sent their employees home ten minutes early as there was nothing left to do in the shop but fold a few shirts and file the nightly paperwork. Gabriel hadn’t been around in a few days to complain, which suited Bee just fine. In fact, his shop was rather quiet. He had rushed into the shop in a panic, made a few phone calls they could hear through the walls, if they were standing by the shared one, then rushed back out again. The assistant manager left soon after lunch, shuttering the entire store. Nobody had returned. It was curious, and they wondered what had happened to cause such unusual events.

Several men in black had entered the store less than five minutes before closing. Of course. It never failed that customers would come at stupid hours just to make life that much more miserable for them. Sighing they turned towards them, trying to keep the irritation out of their voice as they spoke.

“We’re closing up for the night. I would appreciate it if you didn’t stay too long or returned tomorrow when there is more time to browse.”

Bee noticed they all had their hoods up and their faces were shadowed enough Bee couldn’t see them. Backing up, they made for the till where they had laid their phone. Better safe than sorry. They didn’t make it. One stood in their way while the rest were vandalizing the shelves, laughing at the sound of the heavy metal and glass fixtures hitting the floor. Bee heard glass breaking. This was not good, and they had to get out of here before those men decided they wanted to do more than knock over shelves. Darting around the man in their way, they tried to run for the door, planning to head across the way to the women’s clothing shop. They would have a phone that Bee could use to call the police.

“Oh, no, you don’t”

Something hard slammed into them, knocking them to the ground which their head knocked into force. Vision swimming with vertigo, Bee’s swirling vision left them unable to stand. The entire shop spun darkly in front of their eyes as they struggled to get up. They fought anyway, swinging wildly in a mad attempt to harm their attackers, but they were losing the battle to stay conscious and collapsed to the floor, limp.

They awoke in the office in the backroom, smelling smoke and frightened for their safety like they never had been before. Bee reached for the doorknob only to pull back a burned hand with a cry of pain. Frantic, they searched the office for anything they could use as insulation between their hand and the burning hot doorknob and found nothing but paper. Grabbing a handful of sheets, they tried to wrap them around the knob securely enough to open it but the makeshift protection only slid against the metal without turning it. Panicking now, Bee looked out into the stockroom through the door’s window to see piles of merchandise burning. The fire alarms and sprinklers should be going off by now. Why weren’t they going off? 

Bee yelled and pounded on the window, coughing as the smoke filled the small room. Gathering what few coherent thoughts were passing through their head, they pulled their shirt off and tore it in half. One portion they tied around their face for some protection against the smoke and the other part they wrapped around their hand to open the door. It meant they would have to run for help wearing nothing but their bra, but they didn’t stop to think much about this. It was more important to get out of here alive. 

“Help!” they called as they tried to get the cloth around their hand. “Someone help me!”

The knob was still scorching hot under the cloth, but Bee forced themselves to keep trying to turn it. Looking out, they saw the problem — one of the chairs from behind the till was wedged in on the other side, holding the door fast.

“Help!” they screamed, sure they were going to die here. “Help me!”

They looked out the window one last time before crouching low to get out of the smoke as much as possible. Two figures were now standing out there, one casually flicking an arm over the flames to quench them, the other was walking towards the barricaded office. Bee’s eyes went wide.

_I’m imagining things. People can’t just put out fires by waving at them._

They gave a shriek as the chair locking them in was removed and the man entered. He was wearing a light brown fedora with a yellow band around the crown he had tilted far enough the brim hid his face, a long beige frock coat the likes of which would be at home in the Victorian Era and a . . . tartan bowtie? Bee scrambled back from him as he approached.

“It’s all right. I promise everything will be fine. The fire’s out and you’re safe now. We’ll alert the fire department. Just stay here and wait for them.”

She knew that voice. It was Aziraphale’s, but it sounded different somehow — ancient, yet timeless. 

“How . . . can . . . how can that be?”

“Shh. It’s fine. Just go to sleep now. Help is on the way.”

Eyelids becoming heavy, Bee started to descend into a drowsiness they couldn’t fight overcome them as the man carefully lowered them to the floor. Behind him, they could see the other man, a redhead in sunglasses who seemed to have the exact same nose and lips as Anthony. They swore he possessed the same facial shape, as well, but the room was getting dark and all thoughts flew from their mind as they fell asleep.


	8. A Night Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon worries he and his angel aren't doing the right thing. Gabriel and Sandy worry about the fire at Macabre. Anthony and Aziraphale spend a passionate night together before they learn about what happened at the shopping centre.

A whitish-blue light flickered to life in a second-hand bookshop lovingly crammed with old books and mementos collected over its owner’s long life then died off after two man-shaped beings stepped through it. One hung his fedora and frock coat on the coat stand near the front door, the other collapsed onto a couch beside the till in a little area carved out as an office, cradling his arm as he did. He was soon joined by his partner, who sat down on the comfortable-look chair at the roll-top desk where he put on some old-fashioned round reading glasses and jotted down a few notes.

“What are you doing?” asked the redhead on the couch who was holding his arm up trying to look at the underside if it, which appeared scorched. The sleeve of his black jacket and the black shirt underneath it had been burned away.

“I keep track of our actions, just to be safe,” replied his blond companion.

“Safe? But we have no clue what we’re doing. We got our marching orders from Her and are expected to play guardian angel . . . and demon . . . across dimensions without instructions.”

“What did you do to your arm? Let me see, my dear?”

The blond was up on his feet and over to the couch to examine the wound. He winced in sympathy and passed a hand over it, healing it before sitting down beside him to lay his head on his shoulder. The redhead put his arm around him, drawing him in close.

“Thanks. Should have been more careful putting out that fire,” he said. “Did we do the right thing?”

“What do you mean ‘the right thing’, Crowley? Of course we did the right thing. Bee could have died!”

“I realize that and it would have been a tragedy I would not wish on anyone, angel. It would be undeserved all around. Bee doesn’t deserve to go so early and Anthony doesn’t deserve to lose his sibling,” Crowley replied. “But what if they were meant to die? To push Anthony and Zira closer together? Stronger in grief. An emotional support system. That kind of thing. I’m trying to put aside feelings here to look at the big picture, as nasty as the big picture can be sometimes.”

“Bee’s going to be in the hospital for some time because humans can’t breathe in smoke without injuring their lungs and the burns on their hand are going to take some time to heal up the human way,” the angel explained. “Anthony will be such an emotional mess. He needs Zira to be his rock. Goodness knows he’s too stubborn to open up to his parents.” Fishing around in his waistcoat pocket, the angel took out a small enchanted mirror. Setting it on the coffee table before them, he looked thoughtfully at it. “I don’t think this would have alerted us if we weren’t supposed to help. It’s possible that Anthony would have fallen into such grief after losing Bee that his relationship with Zira would have completely fallen apart. We made the right choice.”

“I hope so.” Crowley leaned in to kiss his angel, full of troubled thoughts. "Aziraphale?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Never mind. It's not important." He decided to keep his thoughts on how uncomfortable he was doing this to himself.

He didn’t like the idea of another human being sacrificed for the sake of character development, but what if it was one life versus billions? They did not know what disaster awaited, but they were told it was big and would greatly disturb causality if it happened. Luckily it wouldn’t end life as they knew it, but a large disaster across multi-verses was best avoided at all costs. The only problem was that they had no idea if their choices were preventing that one wing flap of the butterfly or not. They were flying blind on this mission and it made him very nervous, indeed.

~*~*~

Late that night after Gabriel got a call about the fire, he sat with Sandy in the backroom of his shop, trying not to become angry enough to pound the table, which held a rather expensive sewing machine used to make alterations. Off in one corner, a fire investigation inspector checked for any water and smoke damage to the wall adjoining Macabre. Gabriel counted himself lucky that his shop received minimal smoke damage from the stunt Sandy’s thugs pulled. He was furious, suppressing the urge to yell about it while whose who could hold incriminating evidence against them were still in the room. He looked towards the inspector.

“Will you need anything further from me?”

“I believe not,” the inspector called back. “I have your number if I do.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said to Sandy.

They headed out for the privacy of Gabriel’s Audi, a high-end car, but still not at the luxury level he’d like. He was managing his parents’ shop, moving up in the world, and he deserved better. Meanwhile, the Crowley kid was driving around in a Bentley despite being the laziest person on Earth. True, it was about a twenty-year-old Bentley, but a Bentley was a Bentley. It wasn’t like they depreciated at the same rate lesser cars did. He paid a pretty penny for that vehicle, old or not. Gabriel wouldn’t be surprised if its price was near what he paid for his brand-new top-of-the-line Audi despite its age. He tried not to think about it. There were more important issues at hand right now.

He unlocked the doors once they reached the car and the two of them climbed in. 

“What were they thinking?” Gabriel demanded as soon as it was safe to speak. “A fire? I wanted the store vandalized and the manager scared. I was not looking to _kill_ anyone!”

“I don’t know! They tell me they only locked her in the office in the back to scare her and left,” Sandy hissed back, appearing just as upset. “I’ve never had a problem with them before. They go in, shake things up and that’s it. They don’t do anything that would result in someone dying. Something else happened last night. Maybe it was a coincidence. An electrical fire or something.”

“It had better be,” said Gabriel. “We’re going end up with the finger pointed at us and going down with them if . . .” He broke off, frustrated as he raked a nervous hand through his hair.

“Calm down. I have enough dirt on these guys to get them a ton of time in prison, and they know it. They’ll never implicate me because the Crown would salivate over the documentation I have. I’d be more than happy to hand over all the proof I have of their criminal activities to the police.”

“All right. Hopefully, they find nothing or your threat’s enough. Are there still pubs open at this hour? I could use a drink.”

“No. They’ve been closed an hour or so. Shall we head to my place? I have a nice aged scotch that would do in a situation like this,” Sandy suggested.

Gabriel nodded. “I’ll meet you there.”

Sandy got out to go to his own car. Gabriel waited until he had started it and was on his way out of the car park then followed him

~*~*~

Across town in his flat above the bookshop, Aziraphale sat at his kitchen table textbooks and notebooks laid out in front of him as he studied, highlighted passages and took down careful notes. A cup of cold tea sat nearby, forgotten as Aziraphale made notes on _The Canterbury Tales_. His class was currently studying _The Wife of Bath’s Tale_ , and he wanted to be prepared for his next study group in a couple of days. He and another girl had all but taken charge of tutoring the other members and Aziraphale took pride in having enough knowledge to be able to pass it on to others. So here he sat writing even more detailed notes than he would have normally, going over the assigned reading several times until a thump distracted him followed by a scattering of notebooks on the floor. He looked up surprised at Demeter, who was quite proud of herself.

“What are you doing, my darling? You’ve had your dinner.”

Undeterred, Demeter put careful paws in his lap, testing to see if it was safe to climb into. Aziraphale was not going to do anything to stop her; instead, he laughed and scratched between her ears until she closed her beautiful eyes with a loud purr. She was a smart cat who knew when he needed a brief study break, not to mention she was well aware of exactly how spoilt she was and did use it to her advantage. Demeter received pettings, treats and playtime whenever she wanted it, provided it was not the middle of the night. She had learned her lesson there as Aziraphale was quick to pick her up and unceremoniously dump her outside his bedroom before slamming the door on her.

Homework forgotten, for now, he scratched under her chin in her favourite place feeling the vibrations rumble through her from her throat. He wondered what it was about cat purrs that made one feel so relaxed and happy. “Enjoying that? You sure sound like you are.”

“I could purr for you, too, if you petted me in the right areas.”

Aziraphale lit up at the sound of that voice; he hadn’t even heard him slip in the door. “Anthony!”

Demeter narrowed her eyes and quit purring to let out the most hostile hiss in Anthony’s direction. Jumping to the floor, she bolted out the kitchen door into the living room to creep under the safety of the couch. Aziraphale shrugged apologetically at his boyfriend. Anthony gave a jaunty wave that said he didn’t mind at all. He never did get on with animals even though he didn’t actually dislike them, although usually there was an unspoken agreement of peaceful co-existence rather than outright hostilities. Oh, well. He didn’t need to get along with the cat to be with Aziraphale. He just needed to not hate her, a simple enough concept to pull off.

Leaning over, he greeted Aziraphale with a kiss. It was nice to be at the point in the relationship where he could come over after work and let himself in. They almost lived together any more, spending the night at one flat or the other, sleeping in each other’s arms and making breakfast together in the morning. It was born out of Aziraphale’s discomfort with spending some nights alone after the robbery, which he still experienced a month later, but Anthony didn’t mind at all. He slept on the couch during those times at first, graduating to the bed soon after he and Aziraphale started officially dating. Bed activities had not yet gone beyond cuddling and kissing, but Aziraphale was not ready for more and Anthony would not ask for it if he was not.

“Doing homework?” Anthony asked, undoing his hated work tie with its obnoxious pattern and throwing it across the back of the other kitchen chair. “I’ll go hop in the shower. I smell like garlic, anyway.”

Aziraphale smiled up at him. “All right. I’ll get finished up here while you’re doing that.”

He watched Anthony saunter down the hallway to the flat’s tiny bathroom then got back to his reading.

Anthony closed the door behind him, pulling his hair out of its ponytail and shaking it loose with a long sigh. His long fingers unbuttoned his white shirt which he shrugged off onto the rug before unbuttoning his trousers. Stepping out of all clothing below the waist, he turned on the water and adjusted it to hot to soothe his aching shoulder. Climbing in the tub, he pulled the curtain shut behind him, feeling claustrophobic by the tiny space. He was aware of how lucky he was to have a spacious wet room in his flat whose shower could fit four comfortably. This would do, though. It was in the flat of his boyfriend and that is what mattered.

He leaned against the wall of the shower, letting the hot water run over his sore shoulder. It felt wonderful, and he wanted to keep it up longer than he did, but he wasn’t paying the water bill here. With a reluctant hand, he turned down the heat on the tap and wet his hair down, slicking it back out of his face. Reaching out to get the soap he kept here, he squirted some into his hand and lathered up with the creamy rich-smelling stuff, leaving him smelling like leather, bergamot and sandalwood rather than Cheesecake Works food. It felt wonderful to get rid of that smell for the next two days. He was happy to have a break; the restaurant business was not for the faint of heart. It was long hours and hard work for all involved from cooks to servers. Anthony couldn’t wait for the day that he could drive away from that job and never return. He would so grab Aziraphale and whisk him off to a celebratory dinner at the most expensive restaurant they could get a table at.

He was too busy daydreaming and not spending enough attention to what he was doing. Before he could react, he had slipped on a slick part of the tub, landing on his arse with a loud thump. Feeling foolish, he was trying to get himself back on his feet when he heard a knock at the door. 

“Anthony? Are you ok?”

His ankle was throbbing and not cooperating with him as he wobbled back upright, clutching at the wall to stay standing. “I think I hurt my ankle. Do you mind helping me? I’m not exactly clothed.”

The door opened and Aziraphale’s anxious face poked in followed by the rest of him. “Well, we are dating so it’s not like it’s going to remain a mystery forever. Besides, you obviously need help.” He watched the undulating shower curtain, hoping Anthony wouldn’t pull the whole thing down on himself. Approaching, he grabbed ahold of it. “Ok, ready?”

“Open it and don’t worry, ok?”

Pulling it back, he found a sopping wet Anthony half-standing in the tub as he leaned on the wall with no weight on his right foot. Aziraphale got in the tub with him, offering his body as support. Anthony clung to his shoulders, unbalanced and unsure, but Aziraphale put firm hands around his waist, pulling him in close for support. He felt the wetness start to wick through his shirt. Shifting them around as much as he could in the narrow space, he situated Anthony so he could sit on the edge of the tub.

“Sit down. You can then swing your legs around and get out that way. It’ll be much easier than trying to get you out while standing.”

“Ok” 

Scooting his arse around, Anthony lifted those long skinny legs over the tub and on to the fluffy rug in front of the tub. Aziraphale wrapped him in a towel, handing him another one for his hair and sat on the toilet to wait. When Anthony had dried off his legs, Aziraphale pulled the injured one in his lap to examine it. Running his hands over the ankle he didn’t feel any swelling, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come later. His fingers lingered there longer than necessary, but he told himself it was nothing. He was only making sure nothing felt off even though he was no medical student.

“No swelling, but I’ll get some ice in a bit to be safe.”

He removed his hand to Anthony’s disappointment. But still, he smiled up at his angel. “Thanks. Umm . . . now what? I can’t sit here on the edge of the tub until my ankle feels better.”

“Stand up and lean on me. You can limp or hop your way to the bedroom. At least there you can prop your leg up in comfort unlike on my old couch.” 

Aziraphale stood up, bracing himself so Anthony could cling to them as they awkwardly hopped/walked/limped out of the bathroom, into the hall and travelled the short way to Aziraphale’s bedroom, Anthony putting minimal weight on his injured ankle. The going was slow and made slower momentarily by the presence of one cat, who had crept out from under the couch to check out the commotion. She stood in front of them, curious blue eyes gazing upon Aziraphale before looking towards Anthony. Sighing, Aziraphale gently nudged her over out of their way with his foot so they could continue the few more steps to the bedroom itself. From there it was a quick walk to the bed, which Aziraphale was glad was big enough to accommodate two bodies. 

Sitting Anthony on the bed he went to the wardrobe to fetch the pyjama bottoms Anthony kept here and some of his boxers. It seemed strange to be sharing wardrobe space with someone else, but Aziraphale also found it a source of pride in a way. He had someone in his life who was important to him, and he to him. He thought for a moment that he had clothes over at Anthony’s as well, hung up in his cupboard right next to Anthony’s. Having cupboards was quite the thing, in Aziraphale’s opinion, but Anthony’s place was new, modern, luxurious and had all the amenities. He had to admit he didn’t mind when they spent nights and weekends there.

"Here you go, something to put on.” 

He handed over the clothing, their hands touching as Anthony reached to take it and Aziraphale swearing he felt a spark with that light brush. His eyes met Anthony’s a moment before they both leaned in to kiss, taking each other in their arms with hands caressing hair and shoulders, Aziraphale’s fingers exploring Anthony’s soft bare shoulder blades. He stroked his skin feeling its dampness as Anthony had hastily dried himself before they had moved in here. He breathed out with a slight moan as Anthony nibbled at his lips.

“I want you,” he heard himself say and was surprised by such an admission, even if it was true. 

Anthony pulled back, a serious look on his face as his nearly golden eyes sought out Aziraphale’s blue ones. “Really? Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not just because I injured myself and am sitting here naked on your bed?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Why do you sound like you don’t want to?”

“Oh, I want to very much, Aziraphale. But you told me it’s been two years since you have and I want you to be sure.”

“I am.” Aziraphale reached over to his nightstand to rummage through the drawer and pulling out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. “I even prepared for it.”

“I see.” Anthony gave him an amused smile. “If you are ready, so am I. So, who’s going to be wearing that condom?”

“You. I’m a bit rusty to be on top if I’m being honest.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Anthony said with a smile as he started to unbutton Aziraphale’s shirt. 

It wasn’t long before the only thing between the two was a towel and Aziraphale was feeling a little self-conscious. Anthony was handsome and thin and full of confidence and here Aziraphale was, every one of his physical flaws on display now that he had no clothing on to hide them. He blushed, trying to turn away as Anthony ran a finger down his sternum, but his partner held him fast, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m fat.”

“Yes, you are and? It doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to you. I like your body. There’s nothing wrong with it.” 

He was kissing down Aziraphale, pulling him in close, embracing him and encouraging him to get on the bed with him. Aziraphale climbed on, sitting next to Anthony where they could more fully embrace and explore each other’s bodies. Aziraphale allowed his hands to touch almost every part of Anthony above the waist, relishing the feel of his fingertips against another’s skin. It had been so long, and he couldn’t think of anyone else he would rather be doing this with right now. Happy, he allowed his hands to move down to Anthony’s thighs, ignoring what was between them, for now, to enjoy touching and being touched. He whimpered softly as Anthony kissed the hollow of his neck, sending tingles through the area. His hands unknowingly moved closed to Anthony’s inner thighs.

“You can touch there if you want,” Anthony whispered, his lips tickling along Aziraphale’s neck. “You can touch anywhere.”

Aziraphale moved a tentative hand between Anthony’s legs, reaching out with fingers to stroke his cock, pleased when Anthony vocalized his delight. Feeling braver, he put a hand around it, feeling every inch, teasing his boyfriend by running a thumb over the head, reaching down to cup his balls in a light grasp. Anthony encouraged him, telling him how much he loved the touch as he stroked Aziraphale’s blond curls. It brought a smile to Aziraphale’s face.

“Can I return the favour?” Anthony asked.

“Yes.”

It felt glorious as Anthony touched him in return, stroking along it until Aziraphale wiggled with a slight whimper. 

“I love how responsive you are,” said Anthony. “Ready for more?”

Aziraphale nodded. He was left without touch for a minute, as Anthony took care of the condom, his body screaming out angrily as the sudden lack of touch. He watched eagerly as his boyfriend rolled it down his shaft then looked at him with lust in his golden eyes. Aziraphale laid back, allowing his head to sink into the pillow below it as Anthony situated himself above him, giving him a passionate kiss, his tongue searching Aziraphale’s mouth as he used his hands to lube up his own condom-covered cock and Aziraphale’s entrance. Aziraphale then felt him between his cheeks, poised to enter.

“I’ll go slowly. You let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Anthony was a very considerate lover, going only at the pace Aziraphale felt comfortable at as he slid into him bit by bit until they were completely linked, Anthony grinning down at him as he smiled up in return, reaching out to brush Anthony’s long hair out of his face so he could see it better. He nodded and Anthony took that as permission to start a rhythm and settle into it. Gasping at how wonderful it felt, Aziraphale drew his legs, positioning Anthony’s cock to better hit the most pleasurable areas. He clung to him, moaning as he rocked his hips in time with Anthony’s thrusts.

Anthony’s wet hair tickled his shoulders while they kissed, groaning their pleasure into each other as their tongues tasted one another. It had been way too long for Aziraphale, and he could feel his orgasm building up for the stimulation he was taking in, from the kisses to the actual sex itself. He tried to think of other things, to take his mind off all it so they could go longer and do more, but he had been two long years without this kind of touch and his body was crying out in such ecstasy he knew it couldn’t last long. Anthony noticed and slowed down but it was too late. Aziraphale had reached that point from which he could not return. Nails digging into Anthony’s back, he cried out, his back arching, his body shuddering as his orgasm passed through him. Then it was over. His belly was slick with his fluids while his cock was starting to soften.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

He felt the caress of his hair more than he saw the action through the build-up of tears that partially blinded him. He felt ashamed for not lasting that long, like he was some kind of virgin.

“It’s ok.”

“No. You deserve one too. Here, get the condom off and I'll give you a hand job.” Aziraphale reached for the lube.

Keeping up the caresses and kisses, Anthony continued his thrusting, only this time in Aziraphale's hand, making sure Aziraphale was still getting some pleasure out of it. It didn’t take long before he stiffened up with a cry of his own, coming with closed eyes and Aziraphale’s name on his lips. He rolled off of him and looked at the liquid dripping down off of Aziraphale’s belly with a laugh. 

“Well, we didn’t think this through. I’m going to have to go hop off to the bathroom to get a towel so you can clean up, and we kind of made your quilt a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have other blankets and things. And I have tissues here to do some initial cleaning. I have baby wipes in the wardrobe at the end of the hall. I’ve found they’re dead useful for cleaning up after um . . . I take care of myself . . . I forgot to bring a new pack in here.” He blushed.

Giving him one last kiss, Anthony slid off the bed and hobbled to the wardrobe where he found the baby wipes then to the bathroom to clean himself up. Throwing away the condom first, he wiped off the mess then hobbled back to the bedroom where he found Aziraphale standing over the wastepaper basket throwing a tissue away while examining his quick clean-up job. Handing him the wipes, he took a few himself to scrub up the small mess left on the quilt. Aziraphale pulled it off after he finished a more thorough cleaning of his stomach and took it off to the laundry, returning with a fresh blanket. 

Bed remade, the two settled in cosily, not bothering with clothes. Anthony made sure his wet hair wasn’t touching Aziraphale before he laid down, content after their lovemaking. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Aziraphale’s curly head on his chest and wishing they never had to get up again. His eyes closed only to jerk open again as he heard his mobile ring from the pocket of his trousers still in the bathroom.

“That’s my mum’s ringtone. She never calls at this hour.” 

He struggled upright, Aziraphale pushing him back down. “I’ll go get it.”

He brought back the mobile, Anthony taking it from him to frantically listen to the voicemail left behind, then call his mother back.

“Yes, I just got your message. Sorry. I was in bed and I accidentally left my mobile in another room . . . yes . . . Ok, I’ll be right there. Give me a minute to get dressed, ok?”

Aziraphale was looking at him, concern evident in his beautiful blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“There was a fire at Bee’s work. She’s at the hospital. Smoke inhalation and some bad burns to her hand. I have to go . . .”

He was up and off to the bathroom for his clothes, hobbling along as quickly as he could. Aziraphale was right behind him, still naked from their activities. 

“You can’t go alone. I’m coming with. Please. You at least need some help moving about. That ankle’s still sore.”

Anthony nodded. “Thank you.”

They threw on their clothes and left, Aziraphale helping Anthony down the stairs to the Bentley where he kept a reassuring hand on Anthony’s knee the entire ride to the hospital.


	9. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Aziraphale visit Bee in the hospital and more is discovered about the nature of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Bee is misgendered by medical personnel. I figure an AFAB person shows up unconscious at hospital and it's going to be assumed that they're female until they can state otherwise. Anthony corrects them, though. Plus, I know from non-binary friends that it can be a struggle to get people to recognize their gender, whether they're just ignorant or outright being malicious about it.

Everything felt like a dream state right now as Anthony sat in the waiting room with Aziraphale beside him waiting for word on Bee. They were in surgery right now to debride the burn wound in preparation for a skin graft later. There was talk of oxygen, IV fluids and antibiotics to keep infections at bay and all kinds of other medical talk that went in one ear and out the other because Anthony was too in shock to process anything as complex as the information he was being given. This shouldn’t be his job, but it was. His parents were, unfortunately, in San Francisco and could only get a connecting flight back that departed in the afternoon their time on such short notice. Of course, this would happen when they were on yet another business trip. But try as he might, he couldn’t blame them because they were always there while he and Bee were growing up, leaving the travelling to their grandparents. It would be unfair to ask them to refrain from activities that took them from England just in case one of their adult children got into a bind.

“Do you need some coffee or anything?” Aziraphale asked quietly while they waited on further word.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

Aziraphale took his hand. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Anthony nodded. “I will. I need all this to just stop, but unfortunately, I can’t exactly ask you to do that for me, angel.” He gave a wan smile. “Can you do that for me? Just rewind time and make sure Bee gets out?”

He leaned into Aziraphale’s soft shoulder, burrowing into the fuzzy cardigan he wore, an arm around his back, clinging to him for comfort while Aziraphale shifted to put an arm around him in return, petting his slightly damp hair. The two sat like that for some time, neither one moving a muscle as they attempted to process why they were here and what all this meant for Bee. There had been talk about a “good chance she’ll recover full use of her hand” and “it’ll be a long road to recovery, but it can be done” while Anthony just wanted to scream at them that his sibling was a “they”, not a “she”. Aziraphale was soft and smelled good, though, and burrowing into his cardigan made Anthony feel a little more grounded since he received that fateful phone call.

“It’ll be all right,” came Aziraphale’s soothing voice. “Bee will get through this. They’re strong.”

“I hope so,” Anthony mumbled back.

“Anthony Crowley?”

They looked up at that voice as a tired-looking doctor entered to explain everything in a droning voice that washed over Anthony with its words that didn’t register in his brain. He strained to understand all that was said to him, struggling to pick up even the simplest phrases in a speech full of medical terms a tired anxious person such as himself was not going to understand. He sat in his chair numb to it all, Aziraphale holding his hand on his thigh, comforting the best he could while they were in conversation with the doctor. If what was occurring could be termed a conversation. Finally, he heard the words, “she’s not out of the woods yet, but things look good.”

“They,” Anthony corrected. “Bee’s nonbinary.”

“Oh. My apologies.” But the doctor didn’t sound too concerned about the misgendering and left the waiting room.

News delivered and the emergency over, they were shooed out of the waiting room by other hospital personnel. “You might as well go get some sleep. She won’t be awake again until morning and visiting hours in the burn unit are pretty strict. You can come back between nine and ten in the morning or three to five in the afternoon to see her.”

“They’re not female, please quit referring to them by she/her pronouns,” Anthony snapped as Aziraphale hovered nearby trying to calm him.

“Come on, my dear. We should get going,” he said gently then turned to the nurse addressing them. “Thank you very much.”

He led Anthony out of the hospital to the Bentley in the car park and got him situated in the driver’s seat, hoping he was well enough to actually drive the car home. Anthony sat mournfully staring at his hands while Aziraphale made a plan in his head. Patting Anthony on the shoulder, he got his attention. 

“Anthony, we need to go back to my place. I’m going to pack some things and come stay with you. You have four bedrooms, right? Would you mind if I set up Demeter in one? She’s well-behaved and won’t ruin anything. I’ve travelled with her before to my parents’ without her misbehaving and ruining other people’s property.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“Bee has a dog, right?”

“Cerberus.”

“Will her roommate take care of him?”

“No, he’s a lazy prat.”

“Right, then we need to go get him, too, because we’re going to have to care for him until Bee is able to. Can you do that? Drive to my flat, then Bee’s, then home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

But it was all fuzzy for him. The trips to Aziraphale’s and Bee’s happened; he knew they happened because he remembered helping Aziraphale put a suitcase in the boot and a cat carrier in the backseat and soon after a drooling Boxer with any supplies he might need joined them, much to the cat’s annoyance. Aziraphale was now holding her carrier on his lap in an attempt to keep her calm as Anthony drove the rolling pet shop back to Mayfair. They wrangled the pets in first, setting up Demeter in Anthony’s bedroom even though she was not happy to be locked up away from Aziraphale, but as friendly as Cerberus was, she was not interested in tolerating his presence. Anthony muzzily tried to figure out the logistics of where to keep two pets who needed to be separated from each other and soon gave up. His overtaxed brain was not up for this.

He locked Cerberus in the plant room, knowing the dog wouldn’t chew up the plants or knock over the heavy floor-bound planters that nothing short of an elephant could disturb. There was no way in hell he was allowing that beast to roam around on the light-coloured carpet or get up on his pristine furniture. He’d figure out something better later. The kitchen was good-sized. Maybe Cerberus could live there. Maybe a gate across the hallway and Cerberus could have the run of that and a bedroom or two. There wasn’t much in them he could damage as long as he was kept out of Anthony’s bedroom. It was bad enough there was a light-coloured cat currently staying there whose shed hair would be all over his black clothing. Hopefully, she would stop yowling before she drove Anthony crazy. This place wasn’t made for pets as far as he was concerned.

Maybe his parents would take the dog when they came back. They were fond of that big, dumb beast. Or maybe Dagon. She lived in a flat she actually owned, having scraped together the funds to buy the tiny thing. Here was not a good place for him. Anthony stopped thinking about it because right now, it didn’t matter. He figured his mind was just fixating on the pet situation because he was exhausted and it tended to latch on to anything it could when he was in such a state.

He pulled out his phone and texted Dagon that Bee had come through surgery and asked her not to respond because he was going to bed. 

His head soon hit the pillow, and he pulled Aziraphale in close, thankful he was here. That was the last thought he’d had before slipping into strange nightmares. All he remembered was that they were dark and when they awakened him with their strangeness, Aziraphale was there to comfort him with murmured reassurances and comforting touches. 

“You’ll be all right, my dear. Bee will, too. They’ll get through this.”

Anthony cuddled into Aziraphale’s chest and fell back asleep.

~*~*~

Only family was allowed to visit burn patients, so Anthony dropped Aziraphale off at school before heading to the hospital the next morning even though Aziraphale was too distracted to take his usual calibre of notes. He had his study group at noon in the library. They had taken to reserving one of the larger study rooms to meet in when they were all on campus since several members didn’t have cars. It made things more convenient for all involved. He trudged off towards the library after his communications class, not at all interested in discussing literature right now. He needed to be with Anthony. Feeling off, Aziraphale made it about halfway through before Michael called him to task for not paying close enough attention to what they were doing.

“Really, Aziraphale. Your boyfriend’s sibling will be fine, but our grades are going to suffer if we don’t get this stuff down, so if you would be so kind as to explain that passage again, we’d appreciate it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered and tried his best to get his head into it for the rest of the study session.

Michael accosted him afterwards, pulling him aside before he could leave the room. As soon as everyone else had left, she spoke to him, talking in low tones as if she was conveying something top secret to him. He tiredly listened, just wanting to get back to Anthony.

“I heard about the fire from some coworkers and it’s tragic, but you’re letting it get to you something terrible. They’re just your boyfriend’s sibling, that’s all and you two haven’t been dating that long. We have an exam on this stuff coming up, and we’re all counting on you because you’re the smart one. Besides, Bee Beel’s, like, really weird. I’ve been around the shopping centre long enough to hear a lot of rumours. It’s possible they started the fire themselves. I wouldn’t put it past them.” She patted his shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. “Come in here tomorrow ready to go. I know you can put this all behind you and help us prepare for the exam.”

“Oh, yes. I’ll be here ready to work tomorrow.”

She patted his shoulder before leaving the room. “I know you can be. Just concentrate on how much this exam is worth. We’re all counting on you to be a team player here.”

 _Team player?_ Aziraphale watched her go, thinking with language like that, she would make a good corporate-level manager one day. He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and packed up his materials to head to his next class. He had two more to attend before he was done for the day. Anthony had insisted on picking him up despite Aziraphale saying he could take the bus so Anthony could get some rest.

“I need some normalcy, angel. Let me do this?” he had said.

So, Anthony would continue to drive him back and forth to work and school like he had been doing since they had met. 

Aziraphale walked out of the library, turning right to go to the building with his next lecture in it. He would have a harder time keeping his mind on his class than before thanks to the rumour Michael told him. He personally didn’t believe it because he was well aware how much bad press those of the Goth sub-culture received, but it bothered him to the core that people would believe Bee would do something like purposely start a fire in their own store. Or anywhere for that matter. They were a very nice person, despite their abrasive side, and would never do something that might result in harming another person. How many were believing this rumour? 

~*~*~

Since Anthony had managed to sweet-talk his way into a schedule that exactly matched Aziraphale’s, he no longer worked the morning prep shift at the restaurant. That proved a boon since it gave him an hour to go visit Bee. He showed up right at nine and was escorted to their room where they were propped up in bed, hooked up to several IVs with a bandaged arm and dark circles under their pale blue eyes. Their whole pallor was off and it bothered Anthony to see them like this. He tried to smile and be cheerful, but it failed miserably the moment he laid eyes on Bee. Setting the vase of flowers on the shelf in the corner, he looked at them for a moment before sitting down on the one uncomfortable chair in the sterile-looking room.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks. I feel like it.”

“Oh, come on. You’d rule down there. You do know a lot of people who don’t like you call you Beelzebub.”

“I don’t care. They can think what they want.” They pondered it a moment. “I wouldn’t mind ruling Hell. If you’re going to be there, might as well take over.”

Anthony laughed despite himself. “Ok, then. What about Satan?”

“I imagine him to be a hands-off CEO type. Beelzebub’s your Vice President of Hell, running the day-to-day operations. You could be my second in command.”

“No, thanks. I’d rather not have that kind of responsibility. It’s Hell. I imagine they have a get-it-right-or-get-tortured-in-the-deepest-pits policy. I’d just be some minor demon pulling pranks and acting like I’m a big deal, so I wouldn’t get into trouble. Can I live on Earth, oh, Lord Beelzebub?”

“Why would you want to? You’re a demon.”

“I like it here. Can you imagine what fire and brimstone would do to my skin? You forget I’m one of those sensitive redheads who breaks out if someone looks at me funny. Freckles are bad enough without adding other skin issues.”

“Easier to sneak in meetings with your angel boyfriend, too. Aziraphale is not demon material.”

“How would I meet an angel?” It was his turn to ponder something over in his mind before he remembered Aziraphale was the name of the Angel of the Eastern Gate. “Oh, God . . . I’m the snake.”

“Come again?”

“Aziraphale was named after the angel who guarded the gate of Eden. Seems logical we’d meet there if I was the one pulling a certain apple tree prank.”

“I thought Satan did that?”

“Maybe he didn’t. Why would he if he has minions to do his bidding?”

“Point taken and Aziraphale would be too nice to smite you like he’s supposed to.” Bee suddenly grinned. “Have you made use of his flaming sword yet?”

“Shut up. How’s the hand?”

“It’s been better, but they have me on so much medication I barely feel pain.” Bee looked down at it. “But I hate they have to change the bandages several times a day. But they have to to keep it from getting infected. I’ll need a skin graft in a couple of days. Then it’s a week more in here, at least, because I’ll have to keep my hand perfectly still to allow the grafted skin to grow on. Once I’m healed enough, it’s off to physical therapy.”

“Sounds fun. Are you going to be able to handle this all by yourself? You have a dog to take care of, your roommate is a complete arsehole and you’ll probably be without full use of your hand for quite some time.”

They shrugged, then picked at their IV tube before looking up at the three separate bags attached to the line. “I’m going to have to.”

“You can stay with me, you know.”

“Don’t you have Aziraphale to take care of as well as yourself?”

“I only give him rides and if there was a conflict, he’d not have a problem taking the bus. He wants to now, anyway, to take a weight off my shoulders, but I told him it’s no trouble at all.”

Bee laughed. “You two are something else. He’s staying with you, isn’t he?”

“Yes. It was nice to have someone else in the bed last night. My nightmares were something else. I also have your damn dog since Ligur won’t feed him or take him out. He’s living in the plant room and not happy about it.”

Bee gave him an angry look. “You need to let him run around. He’s good about staying off the furniture if you’re worried about your precious couch. And Boxers don’t shed much, either.”

“He’s a nuisance.”

“He’s a sweetheart.”

“Whatever.” Anthony gestured in an annoyed fashion.

The bedsheets rustled as Bee shifted to a more comfortable position. “Can I confide something in you?”

“Why? I’m not an understanding, cuddly person you tell your deepest secrets to. I’m an outright arsehole.”

“You have your good side whether you admit to it or not. C’mon. I can tell you and you won’t think I’m crazy.”

“Fine. What is it?”

“I think I have a guardian angel or two.”

Anthony stared for a moment. Bee didn’t believe in such things as they were pretty close to turning atheist these days. “You’re right. That is crazy. Why would you say something like that?”

Bee looked down at her bandaged arm. “Because I was rescued. Three guys came into the store late right before closing and tore the place apart. I tried to make a run for it, but one of them hit me upside the head hard enough to knock me out. I woke up locked in the office. They had dragged me in there and jammed a chair under the doorknob. I couldn’t get out.”

“Bee . . . have you told the police?”

“Yes, they’re investigating, but they said to keep it to myself because they weren’t releasing details on the vandalism yet, and they don’t want the guys who did it tipped off. There’s been a lot of vandalism going on in the area lately,” they replied. “The place was on fire when I woke up and I tried to open the door. That’s how I burned my hand. I cried for help and two men showed up. One wearing a beige Victorian-style frock coat and a fedora he had angled, so I couldn’t see his face. He opened the office door and told me everything would be fine. And to go to sleep. I swear he put me to sleep somehow because I couldn’t stay awake.”

“During the fire?”

“The fire was put out by the other one. He was wearing black and sunglasses. Hung back in the doorway after he put out the fire by waving at it. It just went out when he did that. And that’s not the weirdest part.”

“What was?”

“The one in the fedora sounded like an older version of Aziraphale. And the other one . . . looked like you.”

Reaching forward Anthony took her uninjured hand in his with an understanding smile on his face. “You were in a stressful situation and your mind created some information it now thinks is real. That’s fine. I hear that happens a lot.”

“I swear it was real, Anthony. Can you investigate it? You’re good at such things . . . go see if the chair from behind the till is in the backroom. When they carried me out, it was to the right of the office door, like someone had moved it from in front of it. I doubt anyone’s moved a thing since then with fire investigators and all that. Dagon has keys. Take her with you.”

“Ok, Bee. If you need us to do that we can.”

“I do.”

He nodded, sure he was going to find everything where it should be. But that was trauma for you. It messed with your brain and if getting the truth helped Bee rest better, he’d do it. They moved on to talk about other things and Anthony finally remembered to tell Bee that their parents would be back in town later this afternoon and would probably visit tomorrow. Bee took it well, considering the minor strain that still existed between them and their parents. Maybe this would help heal the rest of that rift, Anthony hoped as he got up to leave.

He made a call to Dagon as he exited the hospital. 

“Bee says you have keys and can get us in.”

 _“Yeah, of course. I am an assistant manager and do open the store. I think we can enter without getting into trouble. Corporate contacted me to say the investigations are done and it was found to be a cigarette that caused the fire. It seems one of the dudes who vandalized the place threw down his cig and didn’t bother to make sure it was fully out. It was stomped on but apparently was still lit and caught the carpet back there on fire. Who puts carpet in a backroom, anyway?_ ”

“Who knows, who cares? Look, I’m at my car. I’ll meet you there.”

Later the two of them stood before the office looking at the chair that was exactly where Bee said it would be located. Anthony shrugged before walking away.

“I assume there was a lot of smoke. Someone could have noticed and come in to help. It’s not out of the realm of possibilities.”

Dagon was standing with her arms crossed, brow furrowed as she stared hard at it, like it would give her answers if she was intimidating enough. “True. She could have just put your faces on these mystery guys and her falling asleep was her passing out again from the smoke.”

“What do we tell her?”

Dagon shrugged. “I don’t know.” She bent to inspect the ashes around the boxes of burned merchandise. “I’m just glad the whole place didn’t go up in flames and take Bee with it. They’re going to fix the water and smoke damage and expect to be open in a month again. But anyway, why would two guys show up, rescue Bee then vanish back to whence they came? Why wouldn’t they stick around to make sure she was going to be all right?”

They picked their way back out, careful not to disturb anything so nobody knew they were in here. Anthony gave a shrug, as confused by that as Dagon was. It seemed weird rescuers wouldn’t stick around to make sure things did turn out all right. What did they have to hide that they ran off like that as soon as Bee was out of immediate danger? It was something that was starting to eat away at him, and he wasn’t even there to experience it. No wonder Bee had themselves wrapped up in the mystery. Although he doubted the information he and Dagon managed to get was going to smooth things over for them. He wondered if it would be awful of him to make up a few little white lies to put their troubled mind at ease.

~*~*~

“Oh, that is a relief to know,” gushed Aziraphale, a load off his mind. “There were rumours going around that Bee started the fire themselves. Hopefully, this will put that to bed.”

“It will with some, but not with all,” Anthony said from the kitchen where he was plating sushi for them. They had got takeaway after he picked up Aziraphale from the university. “Red or white wine with this?”

“I don’t know . . . I’ve never had wine with sushi. Always tea.” Aziraphale was cleaning up his textbooks off the coffee table before entering the kitchen. 

“I have a nice Pinot Noir.”

“That’ll do. It’s not like we’re wine connoisseurs. We’ve barely started drinking.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Aziraphale paused then shook his head. He decided this was one of those things he did not want more information on. Walking into the kitchen, he admired the spread of sushi Anthony was setting on the table with plates and chopsticks. “Oh, soy sauce.” He headed to the fridge to fetch it himself, finding it inside the door. “Got it.”

“Thanks, angel.”

Aziraphale crept up on him from behind and surprised him with a quick kiss to the cheek, making Anthony turn towards him with a smile. 

“Aren’t you amorous?”

“You spoil me by buying me sushi.”

“You’re worth it.” 

It was Anthony’s turn to kiss him, only he went for a full-on-the-lips variety rather than a fast peck. Aziraphale slid his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and returned the kiss with enthusiasm. It felt so wonderful to be able to do this with someone who loved him back. He smiled as they pulled apart again.

“What?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re grinning at me like an idiot, Aziraphale.”

“Well, call it love or something.”

“Sounds good to me. Love you, too, angel.”

They sat down at the table to eat their meal then spent the evening on the couch where Anthony watched a film while Aziraphale knocked off more of his assigned reading cuddled up next to him. Times were going to be tough for a while. Bee had a lot of recovering to do, the mystery of the two rescuers was still unsolved and likely to stay that way, and Aziraphale had to deal with the gossip of Michael in his study group, but they would eventually get through it all, thought Aziraphale as he sat highlighting in his book with Anthony’s arm around him. 

~*~*~

“It was a cigarette,” Gabriel told Sandy as they spoke on the phone. “One of your guys decided to use the damn carpet to put out his cigarette.”

There was a sigh, then silence on the other end. “I’ll find out who it was, and he will be excluded for any further jobs I have for them. That is inexcusable. Did you turn in your insurance claim yet?”

“Yes, and I hope I get a good settlement. Things are not going well for the shop and I don’t want to inherit a mess. My father’s not doing well these days. The drinking when he was younger did in his health, you know.”

“I believe you told me that. I wish him a speedy recovery. At least until the business is profitable.” Sandy gave that weird staccato laugh of his that annoyed Gabriel, but even Gabriel wasn’t about to offend him by telling him how fucking stupid it sounded.

“You and me both. I don’t want to deal with that mess. Anyway, I need to get back to it. I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right.”

They hung up and Gabriel went back to collecting smoke-damaged suits to send out to the cleaners in hopes that they could be fumigated and sold. Unfortunately, he’d have to sell them at a discounted rate when he desperately needed full-price. He had had to let his one full-time clerk go and was down to one tailor. If he couldn’t turn things around, he didn’t know what he’d do. He had to get in good with the Crowleys and fast. It was time to really start making an effort with Anthony because he was desperate for good connections if all this was to fall apart.


	10. Vignettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur try to get information about the fire, Michael schemes, and Uriel is furious at Aziraphale but is getting in good with Sandy, who's expanding his business. Meanwhile, Bee prepares for surgery, Dagon worries about them, and Anthony and Aziraphale spend time together. 
> 
> (Basically, some small plot points and character backgrounds that need to be told but don't fit anywhere nicely, mixed with a bit of fluff.)

Hastur stood before the gated entrance to Macabre trying to peer in and see why it was closed. There had been no announcement of a going out of business sale or any rumour that they were moving the shop elsewhere. The dim light that filtered inside showed a store full of fixtures containing merchandise, but the air smelled of dampness and smoke. He walked away as Ligur approached him, hunched over with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his mac.

“What happened here?” Hastur asked, jerking a thumb at the shop.

“A fire in the backroom. Can’t you smell the smoke in this hallway? It has all the shops around here bitching.”

“Know anything about it?”

“That’s all anyone seems to know except Bee got burned in it but nobody’s saying how badly. I don’t even know and I’m they’re flatmate. Her brother showed up to collect the dog but I was out and all I got was a note saying they wouldn’t be around for a while.”

“Hey, the place to yourself. I can finally hang out there.” Hastur grinned. “I scored some good stuff after robbing some blond last month. My sales have been high but I need a place to package because my own landlord’s getting suspicious. Might have to move.”

“Shit, Hastur. Bee doesn’t want that crap around the flat and you weren’t careful last time. If you come over, you got to clean up your mess good.”

The y were distracted by the quick footfalls of Gabriel’s expensive shoes echoing through the hallway as he returned to his suit shop. Hastur and Ligur watched him flipping through the collection of mail he was carrying with him, Hastur raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Think he knows?”

“I don’t know. I don’t trust the guy.”

“Hey, Gabe!” Hastur’s shout had the few shoppers in the area looking his direction while Gabriel rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Gabe! I’m talking to you!”

“I don’t know anything about the fire other than I got smoke damage from it, now go away,” Gabriel replied as he got close enough to speak without yelling. “I suggest you hang out somewhere else before I call security.”

He disappeared into his shop, Hastur grinning from ear to ear as his beady eyes watched him go.

“What?” asked Ligur.

“He knows more than he’s saying, but he was always a right bastard.”

“It’ll eventually get around. The rumours always do.”

Ligur headed up further into the shopping centre to scout out new territory to loiter in while their usual spot remained hostile. Maybe Michael would be able to get more information. She worked with Bee’s brother and was in a study group with Anthony’s boyfriend. Maybe one of them would open their mouths about what happened.

~*~*~

They had made it through another study session with the group finally understanding the intricacies of the certain _Canterbury Tales_ stories that had been assigned in class and feeling confident about their upcoming exam. Aziraphale stuffed his book in his bag and prepared to leave, exchanging a few parting pleasantries with a couple of group members before walking out the door after them. Michael was waiting for him in the hallway. He really didn’t want to talk to her, but she had him cornered here in this small space, leaving him little choice.

“I think we can call off the study sessions until the next unit starts up.”

“Me, too. Well done, Aziraphale. I don’t think we could have done it without you.” She gave him her kindest smile, which wasn’t very convincing. “You are such a sweetheart. I honestly don’t know what a nice person like you is doing with such a fuck-up like Anthony Crowley.”

“Well, he has been open about his mistakes.”

“I can understand wanting a sugar daddy. Don’t we all? But Anthony’s been around a lot. He’s been in bed with at least one co-worker every job. The end of the shopping centre’s full of people who all know each other and talk. Gossip gets around. You can do better. I know some wonderful gay guys I can set you up with. Think about it.”

She patted him on the shoulder hoping that these little digs at his boyfriend were planting the seeds which would eventually destroy their relationship. She hated that everything was handed to Anthony on a silver platter while she had to struggle along. And to add insult to injury, he’d been given time off to tend to his injured sister while everyone else scrambled to fill his shifts. He deserved to be alone in this world, even if that was a rather petty form of revenge on Michael’s part. It was the only revenge she really had available to her.

~*~*~

“You filed a _complaint_ against me?” Gloria jumped on Aziraphale the moment he walked in the door to clock in for his shift.

“Of course. You had no right to threaten my job based on the transportation I use to get here.” Aziraphale sounded braver than he felt right now. 

“You’d be out the door if corporate office would allow me to make such a choice,” she snarled. “I’m clocking out because I’m no longer allowed to work the same hours you are while investigations are being made, but since you’re assistant manager and displays are part of your job, they need to be redone and they’d better be perfect if you don’t want to be written up.”

He sighed and prepared himself for a whole hell of a lot of bad days at work until this problem was resolved one way or another. He had drawn the line in the sand and now he felt that either he or Gloria was on their way out the door. Aziraphale hung his bag on the hook in the backroom and clocked in. They were busy but he got most of the two major displays reset on his shift in between helping out customers.

~*~*~

Dagon had a lot of time to herself since she was temporarily unemployed and wasn’t allowed in the hospital to see Bee. They talked daily on the phone, but it wasn’t the same as a good old face-to-face conversation, but she was not family; therefore, she was not welcome under the burn unit visiting policies. She spent a lot of time binge-watching shows, hanging out with Anthony and Aziraphale when she could and drawing. She had just graduated with a degree in graphic design, hoping that someone would like her resume and give her the job of her dreams, or at least one with a decent salary. There’d had a few interviews, but so far nothing had come of them. There had to be a job out there for her that was better than the assistant manager of a retail store. She only needed to be patient because graduation was four months ago and while the top ten per cent had walked out of uni into a job, most of her class hadn’t because of a sluggish economy. It would change. Everything was like a roller coaster with its ups and downs.

For now, she was putting her talent to good use sketching out her friends over and over. A lot of her drawings were of Bee. 

She looked down at Cerberus, whom Anthony had asked her to dogsit because he scared Aziraphale’s cat. Taking a moment, she studied the boxer’s face before sketching out a dog beside this particular picture of her friend. Pining so wasn’t sexy, she thought as she drew, pencil making light lines on her paper. It was chased by another thought that as soon as Bee was well, she was going to be bold and ask them out. Cerberus looked up at her as she peered over the kitchen table at him once again to eyeball his length. His tail thumped against the floor and she scratched his head between the ears murmuring that he was a good dog.

Maybe Cerberus here was agreeing with her. 

~*~*~

Sandy, Gabriel and Gloria were meeting at the Cheesecake Factory for drinks and dessert after closing where they could have privacy. Sandy had recently become aware of the Bath Bombs and Beyond manager after wandering into her shop to pick up a birthday gift for his niece, who loved their products. Something about her take-charge attitude attracted his attention as he was in the market for a new manager. He was spinning off the bakery into its own business so they could sell cheesecake and other baked goods to walk-up customers rather than just the restaurant’s diners. It still would be housed inside the café, and he needed someone to run it. Managing both places would be too much of a responsibility for Tony. 

“My own assistant manager filed a complaint against me because I bitched to him that he either needed to get a car to take to work instead of the bus or find a new job,” she was saying as they taste-tested new possible cheesecake flavours for the bakery. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect someone who’s going to be carrying around the night’s deposits to have a car instead of taking that on public transportation.”

“I agree,” said Gabriel. “It’s rather dangerous to be toting money on a bus. What did the higher-ups say about it?”

“They asked why I scheduled him hours that would involve possibly putting him and the night’s deposits in harm’s way.” She banged the table. “He’s an assistant manager! It’s his job to drop off the bag at the bank.”

“Well, three more weeks and the bakery is going to need a manager. I’ll be at the stage where I need to start training one if you’re up for it,” Sandy said. 

He had offered her more pay than she was getting in her current position and since they got on well, she wouldn’t have upper management breathing down her neck like she did with Bath Bombs and Beyond. It seemed a win-win situation. 

“I’ll be ready. I’m tired of the crap over there. No respect from my crew.” 

She was more than ready to wash her hands of Aziraphale and the rest of the staff who supported him.

~*~*~

Bee sat up in their hospital room unable to sleep. They stared out the window at the lights of London thinking about the conversation that had taken place when their parents had visited. Her father had offered up the inheritance from their grandparents once again, but the strings remained. He was practically begging them to take it since they would be out of work for quite some time. They didn’t need it because Anthony would take care of them if it was required and he wouldn’t attach strings. The siblings stuck together and the trust, fuelled by wise investments and their grandparents’ profits from a successful privately-held company that had taken off to do business globally, was dropping more than enough into Anthony’s bank account monthly to comfortably take care of both of them. Especially since Anthony had stopped with the wild spending a couple of years ago. But he was twenty-three now and starting to mature. Bee was a year behind him.

The conversation had then drifted to small talk and enquiries into how Bee was feeling and when surgery was going to be done because that’s what always happened. The major issues couldn’t be solved so they ignored them. Acted pleasant. Tried to be a family. Sometimes it worked and sometimes Christmas dinners were painful to endure. Bee let their mind drift elsewhere and ended up thinking about their saviours again, wondering why the men would just leave like that and why did they share characteristics with Anthony and Aziraphale? They figured the questions would drive them crazy for the rest of their life. 

Rolling over, they attempted to get some sleep again when they heard a soft sound like a breeze through an open window fill the room. Bolting upright, they immediately reached for the nurse call button.

“Hello? Someone there?”

A feeling told them everything was going to be fine, leaving them feeling soothed despite the jitters brought on by surgery in the morning. Then Bee woke up, finding they weren’t sitting up ready to push the call button but curled up on one side formerly fast asleep. They rolled over, pulling the blankets over them better and dozed off again, thinking that was a weird thing to dream about. Or maybe not. Maybe their brain simply wanted to reassure them. 

Or maybe they had a guardian angel. 

The dream was just a dream, not triggered by anything more than a need to self-soothe the anxiety, but Bee grabbed on to the idea as they drifted off. Why not? Maybe it was angels who saved them from burning to death in that fire. It was as plausible as anything else they could imagine, not that it was going to prompt them to find religion. This time, they fell into a dreamless sleep that lasted until morning.

~*~*~

“So Bee’s surgery is tomorrow?” Aziraphale asked as he and Anthony got ready for bed.

“Yeah, I’m going to go up there later after my parents. Only two people are allowed at a time.” 

Aziraphale reached over to kiss his shirtless boyfriend, admiring his slim build. “That’s too bad.”

“S’ok. I’d just end up bickering with them. Are you in the mood or something?”

Aziraphale was running a finger down Anthony’s sternum, a look of longing in his eyes. “I just might be. I’m sorry. Your sibling’s having a medical procedure tomorrow and I’m thinking with the organ below my waist.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t mind at all. Want to try topping this time?”

“I don’t know. I always bottomed in my last relationship. I wasn’t sure about asking to top with him. He believed all gay men have one role and that his was top and mine was bottom.”

“That’s bullocks. Yeah, there are tops and bottoms, but we who are vers exist, too. He pigeonholed you before you had a chance to explore. Maybe you’re a top. Maybe you are a bottom. Maybe you’re vers like me.” 

The more Aziraphale talked about his past relationship, the more Anthony resented his ex. The guy seriously needed to go die in a hole for all the stereotypical crap he told Aziraphale, who had been in his first relationship. 

Blue eyes gave him a concerned look. “What if I mess it up?”

“Then you mess it up and that’s ok. You’re pretty new at this and you won’t learn if you don’t practice.” Anthony pulled him in close, settling his boyfriend against his bare chest. “If it doesn’t go as planned, then it doesn’t go as planned. I’m not going to get upset at you for not being a pro.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Anthony started to unbutton Aziraphale’s shirt. “I love you and I want you to explore. It’s not always going to go smoothly. As long as we keep that in mind, we’ll be fine.”

“I love you, too, Anthony.” Aziraphale shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, pulled it off his arms and laid it carefully across the back of the chair in Anthony’s bedroom. “I am nervous about it.”

“Well, let’s get naked, anyway. We’ll go to bed and let what happens happen. Even if we only do some nude snogging and fall asleep.”

Aziraphale agreed.

He worked on Aziraphale’s trousers, getting him down to his pants and then to nothing. Anthony pulled off everything he was wearing below the waist and invited Aziraphale into the large plush bed done up in shades of grey. Getting in after him, he pulled him close so they lay facing each other on their sides making a little romantic activity that much easier. He reached over to kiss Aziraphale on his upturned nose and run his hand through his curly blond hair. 

“I’m lucky to have you,” he said.

“What makes you say that? I’m just me,” Aziraphale replied, still amazing someone like Anthony, who could have the pick of anyone out there, would want to be with a pudgy bookish type with aspirations of being a librarian then owning a little corner bookshop that specialized in old first editions. He was like a Shetland pony next to Anthony’s Thoroughbred. 

“Because you’re wonderful. Not many see me for _me_ like you do, angel. They see the money.”

Aziraphale blushed, covering his flustered feeling by kissing Anthony deeply, his everything going into that one display of affection. He set a hand on his face, feeling the high cheekbone under the soft skin while wondering how Anthony could be such a contradiction at times. He loved and protected Aziraphale and Bee, but at the same time didn’t always present the best face to the world. He let Michael get to him and responded to her in kind, going so far as to being upset Aziraphale was in a study group with her. He could be lazy but was generous with the money he had. He didn’t seem to give a damn one minute but cared the next. Yet flaws were flaws; they all had them. Anthony made no excuses for his and apologized when he needed to, which appealed to Aziraphale.

“I want you,” Aziraphale heard himself murmuring as he climbed on top of Anthony. 

He looked down at his partner, idly tracing a circle around his nipple as he did, watching how it rose in response to the nearby touch. He cocked his head to observe for a moment, Anthony merely watching him out of those nearly golden eyes and allowing him to make all the moves. Removing his finger, he put his mouth on the nipple next, testing out how it felt to lick it, what sort of response Anthony would have. 

“Mmm, feels good, angel.”

Aziraphale continued. He licked around the edge of Anthony’s areola, feeling it pucker beneath his tongue and the strange little bumps areola had risen. He licked over them as he wondered vaguely what the point of them was. Maybe they were more useful on female-presenting people. Was that the right term? Wasn’t there an acronym or something? He shook his head slightly, banishing the thoughts that were taking him off course, but that’s what his mind did when he was nervous. Well, it was an important issue, really and . . . now was not the time to have a self-discussion about it, he firmly told himself. Returning to his original intent, he sucked on the tiny nipple in the centre of the areola, wondering if that was arousing for Anthony.

“Yes, just like that. I love it when my nipples are played with. You’re doing great. Can I touch you or would that be distracting while you’re exploring?” 

Anthony’s voice caught as he spoke, showing how the sucking was affecting him. Aziraphale felt pleased his actions were having that effect on him. It meant he could stoke his boyfriend’s desire and didn’t need to always be the one being seduced. He nodded in response and felt long fingers gently place themselves on his head where they stroked through his hair. It was heady. Closing his eyes helped him concentrate on the different actions better without the distraction of sight. He could sense Anthony’s desire through his mouth as he sucked, something he didn’t quite understand. Was it because they were connected on some metaphysical level or something? Did love do that to you? The stroking added to the delicious feelings, the mere touch of the one he loved something to drink up. It felt encouraging, that simple act of having his hair played with. 

He spent quite a bit of time on that one nipple before he stopped, sitting up to examine it. Running a hand over it, he noticed he had sucked it red, but Anthony did not once complain.

“Does it hurt? I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s just sensitive. But the other one’s feeling a bit lonely.”

Aziraphale laughed and switched nipples, licking at first before getting down to the serious business of sucking it almost sore while Anthony gave him verbal praise as he stroked his cheek and ran fingers through his hair. But nipples became dull after a while and he longed to push their activities forward. Nearly leaping forward he fastened his mouth possessively on to Anthony’s, his hand wandering down to explore below the belt, touching around Anthony’s inner thigh before daring to wander over to explore his cock. He felt him jerk beneath him, the hand placed on his back reflexively curling so that fingernails scraped along his skin. 

He wanted so badly to throw the foreplay aside for penetrative sex. He didn’t even realize that he was rubbing his own cock along Anthony’s bum until the redhead broke off the kiss.

“Hey, careful now. We need to be using condoms until we both get tested, remember?”

Aziraphale blushed. “Oh, yes. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. You’re a bit frenzied. Here, let me grab one.” Anthony reached over to the nightstand where he had placed a condom just in case before they had climbed into bed. The lube sat there as well and he moved it closer to the edge within Aziraphale’s reach before handing over the packet containing the condom. 

Aziraphale tore open the packet pulling the condom out. Making sure he had it the right way, he started to put it on, fumbling as he did. First, it was too slick for him to get over the head of his cock, then it started to unroll crookedly then when he had fixed that, he noticed he had pulled too tightly on it so it was stretched tight over the glans where it wouldn’t do much good catching and holding semen. He sighed, feeling defeated by a stupid little latex tube. 

“Shh, it’s no big deal. Here, let me help.” Anthony took a hold of it and gently pulled upwards so the reservoir was freed and ready to do its job. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale grabbed the lube, being liberal about applying it to the condom and Anthony’s body. It appeared he was too generous as globs of it slid down his own penis while some fell off of Anthony on to the bed below. At least they remembered to have a towel nearby this time. Feeling embarrassed, he grabbed it and scrubbed the bed until Anthony cut through his thoughts that he was doing this all wrong. 

“Don’t. It’ll wait. Let’s not lose the moment.”

Tentatively he lined up with Anthony, pushing his way into him gently, feeling emboldened by the moans Anthony let out as he did. He went slow, unsure of how quickly he should go as he didn’t remember how fast or slow it happened in his last relationship. He had done his best to put that whole mess behind him and most of his memories of everything from conversations to sex were no longer sharp in his mind. Taking a deep breath he pushed in boldly, hoping he went neither too fast nor too slow. Anthony’s legs came up to hook around his hips and he felt the reassuring touch of his hands on his back.

“There. Right there, angel. You’re doing great. Just go for it and I’ll tell you if you’re going too rough.”

He fell into a good rhythm, the feel of Anthony wonderful, and he decided he liked topping him. He marvelled that he was inside of his warm, tight body making him cling to him like he was, causing the moans that came out of his mouth. He looked down at Anthony’s face, seeing that he had his eyes closed in concentration. A concentration centred on everything Aziraphale was doing. _He_ was making someone else feel this way. _He_ was able to pleasure his partner in this manner. Aziraphale felt the pride surge in his chest then suddenly, he had to come — there was no stopping it.

“No, no, no, no.”

He made a desperate bid to push harder with the last few thrusts in him and managed to get Anthony to come as he did, a bit of salve to soothe his wounded pride as he felt his cock deflate and the condom start to grow too large. Feeling ashamed of himself, he mumbled he had to get to the bathroom before the condom fell off and ran from the bedroom, the door to the master bathroom slamming behind him. Once in there, he plucked the silly looking latex bag full of liquid off and dumped it in the bin. 

Tears burned in his eyes as he washed his hands and he wiped them off with the back of his wet hand before reaching for the hand towel. It was then he heard the knock on the door. 

“Aziraphale? It’s ok. There’s nothing to be upset about. You’re new at this, but you still made me come. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That we both enjoyed it? And if you hadn’t had made me come, there’s always your hand, right. It works just as well.”

Aziraphale didn’t know what to say. There was a moment of silence before he heard a soft thunk against the door. He assumed Anthony had laid his forehead against it.

“Come on out, please? Dammit, angel, you did everything right. Just because your body didn’t cooperate . . .” he trailed off. “I love you. I love what we can do together and it’s going to get better. Please? Open up?”

Aziraphale opened the bathroom door, Anthony almost toppling in as his support was removed. Grinning sheepishly for a fraction of a second, he held his hand out to Aziraphale who took it, allowing Anthony to lead him back to the bed. He was tucked in before Anthony climbed in beside him wrapping himself around Aziraphale in a manner that reminded him of a cat. Or maybe a snake, if snakes possessed limbs. Either way, the boy was flexible, a notion Aziraphale found himself giggling uncontrollably at. 

“What?”

“You, you silly boy. Any tighter and you’d be constricting me.”

“Well, you deserve it. You deserve all the hugs and you can’t tell me otherwise. I’m tired, are you going to let me go to sleep now?”

“Good night, Anthony” 

He gave him the last kiss until morning, making sure it was a good one.

“Good night, angel.” 

Anthony reached over to turn out the light. They settled in to sleep, moonlight streaming in from the window to bathe them in silver light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it could be taken that way . . . Aziraphale was not in an abusive relationship or anything like that. It was simply a less-than-ideal one.


	11. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon Crowley meddles to convince Anthony to get friendly with Gabriel in order to gain information about the fire. Bee has surgery and life starts to return to normal for her friends and family as she recovers.

“The lattes in this universe leave much to be desired,” complained the Principality Aziraphale.

They sat in the small coffee shop in the hospital’s ground floor watching people walk by on their way to the flower shop down the dead-end hallway from them. A man with a bouquet of helium-filled balloons clasped in his fist that Aziraphale knew his companion would be itching to pop. He glared at him.

“Don’t.”

“This is a hospital. What kind of monster do you think I am?” Crowley groused.

Aziraphale dropped it. “Bee is still thinking about the rescue. I heard them talking to Anthony about it when I was up there and you were poking around Zira’s study group. Maybe we should have modified their memories.”

“It’s a little late now. They have told Anthony, who’s talked to Dagon about it and probably Zira as well. Unless you feel like going on a memory modifying spree. I’m already having a hard time with multiverses and the fact that the version of me here is not only human but so young I can’t remember being that new to existence. The last thing I want to do is rummage around in his head. And that’s not bringing up that on this Earth, I’m related to Beelzebub and friends with Dagon.”

“Yes, well, Anthony’s not happy that another version of him is a demon and the Serpent at that, so you’re even.”

“What are you talking about, angel? He can’t possibly know about us!”

“He and Bee were talking about if they were demons. They decided that Bee would be the Prince of Hell and Anthony would be some demon who was just keeping his head down trying not to get noticed. He figured the only he’d meet Zira is if he was the Serpent,” explained Aziraphale. “They decided Zira’s too nice to anything but an angel and given his name . . . well . . . where else would he meet him but the Gate of Eden?”

“You can tell they’ve never met your former lot.”

Crowley was moody, which was not a new occurrence. Aziraphale ignored it like he usually did.

“It is what it is. What is our next move?”

Crowley shrugged as he sipped his terrible coffee. “I don’t know. The parents will be leaving soon and Anthony will be coming up. But I don’t know. I don’t think it’s in the hospital . . . whatever we’re supposed to do. I think we need to find a way to convince Zira to be on alert around Michael — God, she’s worse than ours — and maybe Anthony needs to use Gabriel’s arse licking to get information out of him. But nobody has any reason to know Sandy and Gabriel was involved in all this.”

Suddenly he stood up and walked out of the coffee shop, snapping his fingers as he strode away. Down the hall a red-haired figure wearing black stopped dead in his tracks, staring straight ahead. Crowley approached, Aziraphale on his heels. They looked upon young Anthony with his face so like Crowley’s. Yet Crowley’s had the timeless appearance of a supernatural being, appearing both young and ancient at the same time. Anthony just looked like an immature human — the kind it was easy to tempt into doing dumb things back when Crowley was still working for Hell.

“Gabriel has to be involved in that fire somehow. It’s easy enough to make arson look like an accident if you know what you’re doing. You know it wasn’t because the store was vandalized,” suggested Crowley. “He’s trying to be your best friend. Let him suck up to you and try to ask discreet questions about what happened at Macabre.”

“Okay.”

The two of them moved behind him before Crowley prepared to snap his fingers again.

“Now go see your sibling. You’ll remember my message but not me.” 

Freed from the spell, Anthony headed for the elevators, forgetting about the balloon he had planned on getting for Bee. The immortals watched him disappear into the crowd before strolling off towards the main entrance of the hospital. Aziraphale reached over to clasp Crowley’s hand. 

“Do you think it will work? And is this part of our mission?” asked Aziraphale

“This too big to let go,” Crowley replied. “There’s more brewing to this than we know. I can feel it. Gabriel’s running out of money and that shop of his is on the edge of going under. I trust him as much as I trust our Gabriel.”

They headed outside to find a quiet place to create the portal to return to their own world. Aziraphale looked thoughtful as they walked.

“I do hope if you’re right we can get answers. I don’t feel anything like you do but I’ll take your word for it that we have more work ahead of us.”

“We do.” There was a beat before Crowley added. “Would it look good if I grew my hair out again?”

Aziraphale sighed the sigh of the long-suffering. “Let’s just go home.”

As they departed, a few floors up in the hospital, Anthony reached Bee’s room, finding the door closed. He tapped on it and heard “Just a moment!” from inside from the nurse checking Bee’s vitals. He waited patiently in the hallway until she exited. Nodding at her with a smile, he walked in to find Bee sitting up in bed with a cast-like object covered in bandages cover their hand. He approached to give them a careful hug.

“How are you doing? And what’s that?” He pointed to the strange contraption on their hand and wrist.

“It keeps me from moving my hand while the graft takes hold. I’m in it for five days. The nurses will come in twice a day to take it off, change my bandages then wrap it back on. It’s not going to be a fun week.”

“What about your lungs?”

“I’ll be experiencing shortness of breath for a while, they say. I might have sustained some lung damage and I have to stop smoking, which will make Dagon happy.”

“Well, it’s for the best.”

“Says the guy who still smokes.” Bee shifted in the bed. “They’ve offered me counselling to help break the habit and I’m on a patch since they decided that was safer than me going through withdrawal symptoms.”

Anthony leaned back in his chair, resting an arm on the back of it. “I think I’m going to have to. Aziraphale doesn’t approve at all. Oh, by the way, he says hi and to get better soon.”

A dark look crossed his face that Bee picked up on. They stared at him intensely as they play with the IV tubing almost to the point where they kinked the tube itself. Anthony raised an eyebrow at them causing them to realize what they were doing. 

“Sorry. Nervous habit. So, you just looked like someone walked across your grave, as Grandmum would say. What’s going on?”

“I think I need to talk to Gabriel. You know how he’s trying to be my best friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Something tells me he knows more about this fire and all the vandalism then he lets on. Maybe I’ll play his game and see if he’ll tell me anything. We all know how much he hates having a store next to yours.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s going to be hard pretending to like him, but if it gets me information.”

“Yeah, he’s a prick,” Bee replied. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, ok? The police are on it, you know.”

Anthony snorted. “They’re not exactly the most competent, you know.”

Bee leaned forward to take his hand in theirs. “And you’re not exactly trained in interrogation techniques.” They looked concerned. “I’ve dealt with Gabriel longer than you have and I know there are more devious things going on in his mind than he lets on. He’s the kind of person that might be dangerous if backed in a corner.”

“Bee, you make it sound like he’s mafia.”

“He’s American and you know how some of them behave. Be careful?”

“Fine. All right.”

Their conversation drifted off to lighter topics after that with Bee asked after Cerberus and how things were going with Aziraphale. They watched their brother as he came to life talking about the blond angel who had come into his life so suddenly and turned everything upside-down but for the better. Anthony never kept a boy or girlfriend for long, getting bored easily before moving on to the next one. Or he took someone to his bed a few times before ending the hookups and searching out someone new and exciting. Yet he seemed very much in love with Aziraphale despite them only being together a short time and Aziraphale adored him in return. Bee hoped it was a lasting relationship because Anthony’s previous love life was rather destructive. He didn’t allow anyone to love him and refused to love in return. Hopefully, he had found the right person. Bee wished they could find someone and their thoughts turned to Dagon.

“Oh, that reminds me . . .” Anthony pulled out his wallet, taking a small piece of paper out of it. “This is from Dagon. She knows they limit what you have in here and thought this would be easy to hide.”

Bee took it and looked upon a tiny drawing of them with their arms around Cerberus done in pencils. It was so perfectly done it about took their breath away. “Oh my God . . . it’s so good. I didn’t know she could draw . . .”

“She’s a graphic designer.”

“That’s all on computers and stuff.” It sounded lame now that it had come out of their mouth. 

But they smiled tenderly at the drawing before looking for a place to stash it that nurses wouldn’t find it. The burn unit was very strict about what was allowed in rooms thanks to bacteria concerns; it would just be confiscated and stored away with the clothing they came in wearing until they were discharged. Their visitors had to check in before going to their room to get a sterile disposable robe to wear over their clothing and cap to tuck their hair up into. Anthony noticed the smile, leaning forward in his chair those nearly golden eyes of his intense.

“She’s interested in you, Bee. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her out when you recover.”

No, no it wouldn’t at all.

~*~*~

Ligur lay with an arm thrown casually around Michael’s shoulders in her bed as she slept on his shoulder. This was not what he expected when he started feeding her information, but he didn’t consider it a bad turn of events all the same. It was a little extra reward for the spying he was doing, although not much of that was going on with Bee in the hospital. The peace was nice all the same. And their brother was paying their half of the rent. It was a good win-win situation.

Her brown hair cascading down her shoulders, Michael looked soft as she lay there instead of the usual hard look that seemed to dominate her features a majority of the time. Ligur didn’t quite understand her obsession with bringing down the Crowley kid and his boyfriend — neither of them was doing a thing to her. So Crowley was an arsehole to her at work. From what he’d seen, it didn’t look like she was an easy person to work with and she received back what she gave others. If only she’d be a little nicer maybe they’d be friendlier to her.

It was odd they had started hanging out together let alone that one day they practically fell into bed, but Ligur guessed in his unimaginative mind that stranger things had happened. Besides, when she dropped the defensiveness and let her real personality shine through, she wasn’t a bad person at all. He was considering cleaning up his act so that maybe he’d have a chance at more than a few times in bed before she decided to find a better guy. He had started by cleaning his entire flat. Next, he applied for better jobs than delivering pizza. If he wanted more out of life, he was going to have to put in the effort or end up like Hastur. Lately, he was starting to see that as his future, which is not the type of future to envy. Bryan Ligur had finally decided ambition wasn’t always something to be avoided. 

~*~*~

Aziraphale stood speaking with Anthony in the hallway in front of Bath Bombs and Beyond before they both had to report for their respective shifts. His face crinkled with laughter at the joke Anthony made about demanding customers before shamelessly leaning in so Aziraphale could kiss him. They were interrupted by Gloria who had exited the store to glare at them until they noticed her. Aziraphale blushed a deep red, not making eye contact with her. Anthony was more defiant, blatantly staring down the manager for daring to interfere where she wasn’t welcome. She cleared her throat.

“You’re late, Aziraphale. I’ll give you two minutes to go get clocked on before I write you up.”

He gave her a look of disbelief. They had plenty of time before having to start work. “I have fifteen minutes to spare.” He was feeling bold with Anthony there beside him to give him silent support. She was not going to harass him day in and day out like this. “The company frowns on overtime. You wouldn’t want to have to explain why I have fifteen extra minutes of it this week.”

“Aziraphale, I’m leaving the company for a job with better pay and more understanding upper management. I don’t give a damn anymore what the head office is going to say or do. But you’re going to toe the line or I will not think twice about showing you the door.”

“Oh, I’m sure Sandy will be more than happy to hear about you threatening employees like that,” injected Anthony smoothly. “You seem to forget that not only do I work for him, but he also runs in some of the same professional circles as my parents — Eden and Trevor Crowley. Sandy’s doing them a big favour by allowing me to work in his restaurant and his close friend Gabriel would like for me to introduce him to them one of these days.”

Gloria looked at him, shocked, taking a couple of steps back from her position close to Aziraphale. She had been attempting to intimidate him physically as well as verbally.

Anthony crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. “Yeah, they’re big movers and shakers in the London business community. Successful international business and all. Do you really want to get on their son’s bad side by harassing his boyfriend? Because I’ll be happy to tell Sandy all about your major attitude problem. Not like I’m going to get fired. I’m the one with connections. You’re the one who will be shown the door.”

“I . . . umm . . . Don’t be late.” She scuttled back into the shop as quickly as she could. 

Aziraphale was staring open-mouthed at his partner. Anthony gave a sly smirk in return. 

“What?”

“I . . . well . . . um . . .”

“She’s not going to threaten you like that even if I have to act like an arsehole to make that happen.” He protectively hugged Aziraphale right there in front of the crowds wandering by on their way to the next sale. “OK, I need to go. Bee’s not happy about it, but I’m going to start schmoozing Gabriel. He knows something and I want to find out what. I’m heading up to his shop for a minute or two. See you at break?”

“Yes. I’ll see you then. Do be careful?”

“Oh my Gaaaaaaaawd, you two act like I’m going to be killed. I’ll be fine. Promise.” 

With one more long kiss, he left and Aziraphale went to clock in. Gloria was already gone, having slipped quietly out the back door to avoid confrontation.

Further up the hallway, Anthony walked confidently to Gabriel’s shop, a grin on his face as he approached the store with its closed gates. The lights were on and he could see Gabriel inside sorting through ties. He knocked on the side of the shop to get the man’s attention. Looking up, Gabriel appeared tired and annoyed, but his facial expression quickly slid into a welcoming smile. He walked over to the gate and opened it enough for Anthony to duck in.

“Gabriel. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped in. I just heard about the fire and I wanted to see if your store was all right.”

“Anthony! Nice to see you again and thanks for coming by. I had some smoke damage, but I believe we’ll get through it. Yes, we’ll get through it.” He nodded at the stacked inventory around him. “So, what can I do for you?”

 _God, I have to play nice with this arse licker_ , Crowley thought with a shrug. “I was just heading into work and had a few moments to stop by, make sure everything is okay. Maybe we can do lunch sometime. I know my parents are always looking for up and coming business talent to mentor through their club.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this baiting of some stupid American bastard who thought he could come to London and make a go of it acting like a smarmy arsehole. Walking over to the till he grabbed a pen and one of Gabriel’s business cards from its holder. Writing his phone number on it, he left it there on the counter. “There’s my number. Give me a ring later. I need to go.”

He walked out. Gabriel stared after him for a moment before going to pick up the card. He smiled as he put it in his suit coat’s inner pocket. Jackpot. Maybe now he could do some serious networking.

~*~*~

“You’re five minutes late and I almost had to take another table even though I’m off,” complained Michael when Anthony sauntered in.

“I had to talk to Gabriel Whatshisface up the way,” he replied as he tied on his half-apron. 

She put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

“He’s just so handsome, I had to go flirt with him.” He batted his eyelashes at her in a mocking gesture before going to find whoever was this shift’s host to get his table assignments.

Michael marched out of the restaurant and right over to Bath Bombs and Beyond, not even bothering to take off her half-apron before heading out. Searching around inside, she found Aziraphale and waited until he was done ringing up the customer he was helping. His white-blond head nodded as he carried on a bit of small talk with the women before handing over her bag of purchases and thanking her. Michael walked over to the till.

“Your boyfriend was up flirting with Gabriel Barcroft who runs the suit shop up the way,” she said to him. “Aziraphale, open your eyes. He’s going to break your heart.”

“He’s merely curious about the fire that happened up there the other day. If it gets him information, he’s happy to flirt. It means nothing.” Aziraphale knew exactly what kind of game Michael was up to and he was no longer interested in playing it by her rules. He had picked up a few tips from Anthony’s coaching as they discussed her motivations one night and was ready to implement them. “The way you go on about my boyfriend makes me think you’re either interested in him or in me.”

She opened her mouth to reply only managing to shut it again with a shocked look on her face.

Aziraphale smiled sweetly as he straightened up the small containers of lip glosses in front of the till tidying them so they were no longer mixed. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I only like guys and Anthony, while pansexual, is monogamous. Excuse me, I need to go help that customer over there. I’ll see you in class next week?”

“Yes . . . I’ll see you then.”

She had no reason to stay now and walked out before she made a further fool of herself. 

Ligur was waiting for her down the way as they had planned to go see a film after she got off from work. She approached him looking simultaneously annoyed and dejected.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing important. I need to get my mind off of things. Ready to go?” She grabbed his hand as they started walking.

“If it’s the whole Crowley and his boyfriend thing, why don’t you just drop it? That kind of rubbish is below you, you know.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Maybe it is.”

~*~*~

Aziraphale and Anthony strolled along the riverbank after their respective shifts eating a late dinner of fish and chips picked up at one of Aziraphale’s favourite takeaway spots. 

“I don’t know . . . It’s just hard to believe that this river froze over once in a while and they were able to have fairs out on the ice,” Aziraphale said after licking crumbs off his fingers. “Can you imagine ice skating on the Thames?”

“No, not really,” replied Anthony who was watching Aziraphale enjoy his meal more than he was eating himself. “I don’t ice skate. I’m tall. It’s a further fall than for a short person.”

“You’re so full of it, sometimes,” laughed Aziraphale.

“I love to hear you laugh.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. Best sound in the world.”

Aziraphale gave a little smile, his cheeks colouring pink. “Nobody’s ever complimented me like you do. Well, my parents do, but parents are supposed to.”

“You’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”

“So have you, according to what Bee said. They said you did, at least, until about three years ago. Then you stopped hanging around almost everyone. Can I ask what happened?”

“I inherited a flat in Mayfair and a load of money,” Anthony replied. He gazed out on the Thames, looking at the lights of London reflecting in the water. “Suddenly everyone wants to be your friend and they all have ulterior motives. We weren’t friends with other rich kids who wouldn’t care because they had their own money. Mum and Dad did their best to shelter us from that. So, suddenly I had a lot of false friends who wanted a lot of favours and they all have ulterior motives. It became easier to make temporary friends while clubbing. It kept the loneliness at bay. I know . . . first world rich boy problems.”

“Money doesn’t mean happiness nor does it mean all your troubles go away.”

“Why do you love me of all people?”

“Because I see a good person in you.” Aziraphale reached over to kiss him on the cheek. “Money isn’t everything. Oh, I’d love to be able to buy my own bookshop and travel, but I’ll get there someday. I’m pretty comfortable for someone still at uni, really. I have a decent paying job and a relatively nice place to live.”

“I’m there using water and stuff. You let me know if you need help paying for it.”

“I’m fine, Anthony, but thank you.”

Anthony smiled and offered him a chip since Aziraphale had eaten all of his. 

“It bothers you sometimes, doesn’t it?” Aziraphale asked around chewing the chip thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Having money.”

“Sometimes. I mean, I went nuts when I first got that trust. Bought the Bentley, redecorated parts of the flat, threw money around like it grew on trees. Now it kind of makes me uncomfortable and that probably makes me sound ungrateful. Some people barely have a roof over their heads and I’m complaining I have too much. I try to be good. I give to charities and stuff.” 

“It’s ok, Anthony. You don’t have to justify it to me.”

They looked out over the river and the lights on the opposite bank. A boat passing by interrupted the reflections on the water. Anthony gave up on trying to finish his meal and gave the remainder to Aziraphale. He took it with thanks.

“Are we going too fast?” Anthony asked.

“Why do you ask? We went slowly at first. We’re just starting to explore sex with each other and . . .”

“. . . we practically live together. Are you fine with that? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“Yes, I’m fine with it. If I wasn’t, I’d tell you.”

“Since we are basically living together, can I propose a more sane schedule than us just crashing wherever the mood takes us?”

“What?”

“A week at my place, a week at yours? And we can take breathers if needed and stay at our own places if needed.”

“I’d have to get Demeter used to that kind of schedule, but I think it would work. She seems to have taken to your flat quite well already even though it’s been three days. Yes. Let’s do this.”

He all but leapt into Anthony’s hugs, laughing as Anthony swung him around. 

“We must be mad.” 

“Maybe we are, but it’s a good kind of mad. I love you, Anthony.”

“I love you, too, Aziraphale.”

It seemed such a simple thing, deciding that, but it also felt very significant. Neither could put their finger on why. Maybe it didn’t matter and only their happiness did. 


	12. Breaking Out and Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale moves in, Bee leaves the hospital and Crowley starts making Gabriel his new best friend for the sake of getting information out of him.

Anthony was not having any fun at his lunch with Gabriel, but he did glean some information about how much he disliked Bee which only upped Anthony’s suspicions about him. He poked at the expensive meal before him listening to Gabriel point the finger at Bee and Macabre for his business not doing well. It was the goth customers. It was Bee’s attitude. It was the loud music. It was any number of reasons other than anything he could have done wrong like bad business practises. Anthony would have put money on that being the reason. He was being groomed by his father to take over the family business and had graduated with a degree in business management two years ago. He was no expert by any means, but he did have basic knowledge on the subject at hand. 

“It’s actually my father’s business. He’s English, my mother is American and when they divorced when I was four, she took me back to the States. I’ve only been over here five years helping my father run this place,” Gabriel was saying. “You don’t help your father run his?”

“Parents. My father is in charge of the day-to-day operations of the company and my mother heads the financial department. And no, I haven’t done anything more than train to take it over someday and it’s just a bit of training at that. That’s what throwing me out into the world and having me get a regular job is supposed to do. Start me thinking about employees’ lives and remember that we do better when we treat all well. My grandfather tended to not treat his people the way he should have.”

“Oh. Well, good for your parents. It’s nice to see them trying to teach their children right.”

Anthony smiled with a nod while inwardly wanting to roll his eyes in contempt. Now, he was completely out of subjects to discuss, except the fire. He wasn’t going to bring up that subject just yet. If he was to get information, he was going to have to get Gabriel to trust him or give him something in return for that information. Right now he had neither trust nor anything to use as a bribe. Or a reason to be bribing him other than his sibling was involved in this mess, come to think of it.

“So, why suits?” he asked, hating himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth. 

Gabriel launched into the history of his family’s tailoring business while Anthony tried his best to appear interested.

~*~*~

Anthony was finally able to head home two and a half hours after his lunch with Gabriel had begun, relieved to be out of that situation. He sat in the Bentley with the windows open having a cigarette before he headed home to Aziraphale, who was still staying at Anthony’s after their decision to move between their flats weekly. Starting next week they’d be at Aziraphale’s, although Aziraphale had admitted to not being excited about returning to his small, cramped flat after being spoilt by this one. But moving in together in that one home sort of fashion was not on the table yet. They had just begun their relationship.

If they had, then why did it feel so old? Like they had been together forever?

Maybe he should just ask Aziraphale to live with him. 

Or maybe not because it had only been two months and what was Aziraphale supposed to do if they broke up?

_Don’t be stupid about this, Crowley._

The inconvenience would have to do for now. Unless he could get Aziraphale to live with him, and he kept his flat at the same time?

_You’re being stupid. He can’t keep a flat he’s not going to live in. That’s mad._

He spent the entire drive home deep in thought about it. Walking into the flat he was met with a worried Aziraphale who came in to greet him from the kitchen. Anthony immediately hugged him, knowing something was up as he enveloped him in his arms where Aziraphale’s eyelashes tickled the side of his neck.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“My lease is up next month and the bookshop is going out of business, so my landlord doesn’t want to renew my lease. She was all apologetic, but she’s getting up in age and wants to sell the place. It’ll be easier to sell without someone in the flat she says,” whispered Aziraphale. “What am I going to do? I was lucky to get that flat and finding decent places to let is worse now. I’ve read the news articles about families living converted shipping containers and students renting cupboards from friends.”

“You’ll live here. Not like I don’t have space,” replied Anthony soothingly. “One guy in a ridiculously huge four-bedroom penthouse in Mayfair. I think I can spare a bit of space for you. You can even have your own bedroom if you want.”

“I can’t impose.”

“You’re not imposing. You’re my boyfriend. We practically live together anyway and really, switching between flats is just stupid.” Anthony kissed the top of Aziraphale’s curly blond head. “I won’t have you out on the street. Not when I have space.”

“And if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Anthony replied confidently. “That we found each other and now that you need a new place to live tells me that it’s meant to be.”

Aziraphale nodded, not sure what to say, but touched by Anthony’s certainty. 

“We’ll stay here tonight and tomorrow head over to start packing. The sooner we get you out, the better.”

“I’ll need to get boxes.”

“I have lots of boxes. I folded up a lot of the ones from when I moved here, and they’re in the last bedroom on the right.”

“But you moved in here three years ago, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but they’re really good boxes. I couldn’t just get rid of them.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You are something else, you know that?”

“I thought that was part of adulting . . . hanging on to stuff because it might be useful again.” Anthony let go of his boyfriend. “Oh, and Aziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t think you have to _live here_ live here. I won’t be offended if you want to move in and start searching for your own place.” He’d understand if Aziraphale felt he needed his own space. “I just won’t see you homeless when I can do something about it.”

“Thank you, my love. I will not make a decision one way or another on it. Let’s see how it goes, shall we?”

“Of course. Anyway . . . how am I spoiling you tonight? Sushi? Taking you out to a film? Blow job?”

“Sushi sounds good and I know just the place. You’ll love it.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

~*~*~

“You seem deep in thought,” said Anthony as they sat at their table enjoying the selections their wait staff brought them. 

Aziraphale’s chopsticks stopped halfway to his mouth. He blushed, making his white-blond hair stand out against his darkening face. “It’s nothing. I was just debating if I was going to take a bedroom or not since we always sleep in the same bed. It would be a helpful place to put some of my furniture. I could put my couch, chair and shelves in one and have a reading room.”

“You don’t have to shove all your furniture in a bedroom out of view. We can find a way to put your shelves and chair in the living room. Well, at least some shelves. You do have quite a few books.” Anthony laughed. “You’re allowed to make it your space, too. I’m not going to make you live in a flat that’s totally mine. That’s not fair.”

Aziraphale dipped his piece of sushi in soy sauce, allowing the excess to drip off as he answered. “I’m liking the idea of a reading room, though. We’re still going to need our own spaces and if I set up a bedroom as a place to quietly read, then I can do that if I’m not in the mood to watch your films or need a place to do homework. And we’re nesting, aren’t we?”

“Maybe. Is it a bad thing?”

Aziraphale popped his sushi in his mouth, chewing it before answering. “I don’t know. It seems early.”

“Maybe it is but it’s just meant to be.”

“You are a hopeless romantic, I think.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, because you’re my hopeless romantic.” Aziraphale’s face darkened. “You do so much for me and I can’t return all those favours.”

“It’s not a big deal, angel, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll cash in on them when possible.”

“I’ll pay tonight. I’ll pay rent. Or utilities. Or something.”

“I don’t owe anything on the flat, but splitting utilities wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Anthony knew Aziraphale didn’t want to completely dependent on him even though the extra water and electricity Aziraphale was going to use was not going to make a dent in his bank account. “And you can help buy food if you want. But don’t worry about it right now. We can work it out.”

“All right.”

Crowley went back to munching on his own sushi keeping his own thoughts on the situation to himself. He knew he would take care of Aziraphale no matter what; nothing in this world was as important as the ones he loved and Aziraphale had quickly earned a place in that incredibly small group of people, next to Bee. And Dagon if Crowley would admit it. She had become a good friend, too, and he would help her out if she ever needed it, whether it was moral support or financial. 

“You never did tell me how things went with your clandestine meeting with Gabriel.” Aziraphale’s new topic of conversation cut through Anthony’s thoughts.

Anthony groaned, his hatred of that whole lunch meeting passing across his face. “I know more about Gabriel’s past than I wanted to, but . . . I did get some interesting information. Like he’s sinking into debt and he blames Macabre for it. It’s something. And if he’s desperate enough, maybe he would try to get rid of the store. Maybe his with it for the insurance money.”

“Such intrigue for a couple of businesses. This is the kind of thing you’d expect in some kind of mob film.”

“I’m going to keep digging.”

“Be careful?”

“I will.”

“I’m going to eventually have to get him a meeting with my parents. It’s inevitable and I’ll have to think of good reasons why. ‘Hey Dad and Mum, can you just pretend to want to help this prat out because he might be involved in the fire that injured your other child?’ I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

Aziraphale ate his last piece of sushi. “You could say that you met him while checking out the damage to Macabre, learned that he had inherited a mess to clean up with his business upon becoming the manager and wanted to introduce him to you because you thought he had potential. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you are business-savvy, and it’ll impress your parents you want to help strengthen the business community. I may have only talked to them twice, but they are big on helping everyone succeed if they’re willing to put the work into it. They were interested in my bookshop idea. Your mother also thinks I’m very good for you.”

For a brief moment, Anthony’s face matched his hair.

~*~*~

The next day, Bee was finally out of the immobilizer, their graft was on its way being fully healed and they were to be released tomorrow. Dagon had agreed to allow them to stay at her place so that she could watch over them. Anthony had already packed up all their weather-appropriate clothes and had taken them to Dagon’s so Bee wouldn’t have to deal with that. Surprisingly he had reported back that Ligur had cleaned the place up nicely. They wondered what had got into him. 

Their thoughts were interrupted by the physical therapist who had come in to help start them on exercises to return full movement back to their hand. Mostly they consisted of light flexing to a certain degree and no further than that established degree to allow the stretching of ligaments and the like after repairs were made. Getting full movement back was going to be a long process. They palmed the ball they were given, squeezing a few times before it became too painful.

“Don’t push it. You’re doing great,” said the woman who had been assigned to them as their therapist. She specialized in hand therapy which Bee didn’t even know was a thing.

“It’s starting to hurt.”

“Time to stop. I’ve contacted my office about setting up appointments with you if that’s all right. I hear you’re getting discharged tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Not like I know any hand therapists,” Bee replied with a slight smile. 

Her therapist looked up at the knock on the door. “Oh, looks like you have a visitor. I’m done anyway.”

She showed herself out as Anthony entered. 

“Hey, you ready to get out of here tomorrow?”

“More than.”

“Mum wanted you to come stay with them, you know.”

Bee snorted and imagined what kind of hell being around the parents would be even if they did have the best intentions. No, it was better they just stayed away. Family was for short visits, not long recuperation. Maybe Dagon and them could figure out if they wanted more than friendship. It was a nice thought to have.

“You in there?” asked Anthony, cutting across their thoughts.

“Yeah.”

But Bee really wasn’t. They were thinking about escaping from here after nine long days and returning to the regular world with real people in it rather than perpetually cheerful nurses, doctors with differing opinions on the healing process, and a constant parade of people through their room day and night from family visiting to medical personnel taking vitals at ungodly hours. They missed Dagon and Cerberus. Hell, they missed fussy Aziraphale who seemed so much older than he actually was. And they missed Anthony’s easy manner that disappeared every time he visited because he could no longer stand hospitals after watching their grandmother die in one. Now conversation just seemed forced with him the longer they spent up here and the more he visited.

“Go home, Anthony. You’re stressing yourself by being here and I’m leaving tomorrow, anyway.”

“Let’s just get you dressed and get you out tonight. They can’t stop you.”

“I’m playing this by the book, Anthony. It’s a serious injury.”

“Nothing’s going to change between now and then.” He smirked mischievously at them. “You don’t even have an IV to take out any more.”

They had removed it this afternoon since Bee was no longer in need of intravenous fluids and had been switched to oral pain medications.

“Do you have a prescription for your medications?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Fifteen minutes later a serious case was brought up, commanding the attention of almost entire floor staff. Two figures quietly slipped down the hall to the elevator while nobody was looking, trying to keep their laughter to themselves. Running through the lobby, they headed out through the main entrance into the car park and to the Bentley where Bee called Dagon.

“You home?” they asked when she answered.

“ _Yes, why_?” she replied.

“I’m on my way. You ready?” There was a pause before she turned to Anthony. “Drop me off at Dagon’s.”

Two watched them go, the angel looking disapprovingly at his partner. 

“You helped. I know it. Not all that staff was needed to get the new patient in their room,” said Aziraphale primly.

Crowley shrugged. “They were going to leave, anyway. Might as well avoid awkward questions.”

“I just want to know why the mirror alerted us to this. It’s not like Bee’s in any danger. They are healed as much as a hospital can help them.” Aziraphale started walking off again, irritated his reading time had been interrupted.

“I don’t know. But we’d better keep an eye on things just to be sure. So much for retirement.”

The truth was their enchanted mirror was sensing big happenings in the future but was unable to tell them when they were going to occur. There would come a time when their help would be sorely needed. Thinking something to the effect that it might be sensing something coming, Crowley watched the newer Bentley, that didn’t have a thing on his vintage model, speed off down the street before following after his angel.

Laughing now that they could, the two in the modern Bentley headed to Dagon’s flat where she was very happy to see Bee again. They were still hugging when Anthony left to go pick up Aziraphale from class. Driving over there he pondered teaching Aziraphale to drive even if he didn’t have a car to use. He wondered why his boyfriend had never learned such a skill. Anthony couldn’t wrap his mind around not being able to hop in his car whenever he wanted to take off to wherever he wanted, even if he did understand owning a car in this city was expensive. Most people who didn’t bother with a car around here still knew how to drive one.

“Why didn’t you ever learn to drive?” he demanded when Aziraphale climbed into the car.

Aziraphale was slightly taken aback by the abrupt question. “No need? Public transportation is as good where I grew up as it is here. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It just seems weird to me that you didn’t even learn, just in case. Like, if you wanted to take a trip somewhere, you could rent a car and take off for . . . the South Downs or something . . . instead of depending on the train or bus.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You want to teach me to drive, don’t you? Quit worrying, my dear. I don’t mind public transportation. Or riding with you.”

“It’s such a sense of freedom,” Anthony replied.

“For you. I’m fine, but thank you for looking out for me. You don’t need to take care of me all the time. I do appreciate it but don’t wear yourself out worrying about me, okay?”

Anthony nodded in reply.

“Let me take care of you once in a while, and not just because your sibling’s in the hospital. Let me pamper you on occasion for no reason at all.”

“That’s a hard thing for me to do.”

Aziraphale reached over to put a hand on Anthony’s knee. “I’ve noticed.”

The talk switched to the more mundane with the two discussing how their days went as they drove home — Aziraphale did not approve of Anthony breaking Bee out of the hospital — and entered the flat. Dinner was simple leftovers from their meal two nights ago, and they soon found themselves on the couch watching a film of no consequence while Aziraphale did some light studying. It was near midterm now of his penultimate semester and graduation was looming in the spring even though he didn’t feel ready for it. He felt like he should not leave the safe halls of academia, going for his master’s degree instead of stepping out into the real world with a real job. He scooted closer to Anthony, laying his head on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Fear of the future, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you a good job.” Anthony hugged him tighter, understanding his concerns. 

A lot of people he knew worried about finding that job that at least got their foot in the door of their career when they graduated. Some managed to, others didn’t. Some ended up in good careers, even if the job wasn’t what they expected, and some never did. Making a good living shouldn’t be a crapshoot. He knew why Aziraphale would worry even if he had yet to be in such a situation himself. But Anthony would make sure Aziraphale was taken care of. He would do anything in his power to find him that dream job. His family name had influence, why not use it?

_God, I’m just a sucker for one Earth-bound angel. I swear Aziraphale, I’d marry you if you’d let me._

He barely noticed it when Aziraphale slipped out from under his arm and knelt before him on the floor, his hand hovering over his trousers. 

“May I?” asked Aziraphale looking up at Anthony with beautiful blue eyes he could lose himself in so easily.

“Yes. I love it when you feel comfortable enough to be assertive.”

He caressed Aziraphale’s beautiful curls, winding his fingers through the soft blond tresses like Aziraphale enjoyed as his trousers were unfastened and his cock pulled out to be teased until hard. Aziraphale was getting better at sexual touch and Anthony was learning just how good he could be at it now that he wasn’t held back by feelings of inadequacy. He leaned back, so he wouldn’t distract Aziraphale, leaving one hand on his shoulder because he felt weird not touching him in some manner. Anthony felt Aziraphale’s gentle hand warming him up, getting his cock erect so he could begin the blow job. There was no fumbling this time. He stroked the head, concentrating his efforts on the underside before he grasped the shaft and let it slide down to Crowley’s balls then back up to the head. It was a simple movement but it did its job. That combined with the touch over his glans got him hard enough Aziraphale could move on with Plan B.

Anthony groaned as his cock was taken into Aziraphale’s warm wet mouth where his tongue pressed against the underside of it, licking from one end to the other before he settled in to suck. Aziraphale’s blond head bobbed in a slow rhythm as he worked Anthony, deciding to take it slow, so he could control everything from start to finish. Anthony would come when he was ready for him to and not a moment sooner. It was bold and it was not what Anthony was used to, but was hoping for one day. Apparently “one day” was here, and he couldn’t have been prouder of Aziraphale’s progress, partially because he reaped the rewards and partially because he loved seeing him come out of his shell and be more sure of himself.

Oh, it felt wonderful to have Aziraphale’s mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking, licking and moving at a speed that was going to drive him insane, and he loved it. He looked down into those blue eyes that sparkled mischievously back at him. Yes, Aziraphale knew exactly what he was doing. Cheeky bastard.

“Right there! That feels so good.”

He was floating on a cloud, only aware of Aziraphale’s mouth on him as he whimpered in ecstasy, trying his best to stay still and not alarm his boyfriend with any inadvertent thrusting. He muttered to himself, unaware of exactly what he was saying, but still aware on some level he was probably repeating the same stupid phrase over and over. His fingers clenched into his palm, the nails leaving half-moon-shaped grooves in his skin. He stroked Aziraphale’s shoulder with his other hand hoping somewhere in the back of his sex-muddled mind that he didn’t have some kind of death grip on it. 

“Oh my God, I’m going to come!”

Aziraphale raised his thumb in response without breaking rhythm. It only took a few more moments of sucking before Anthony left Aziraphale with a mouthful of come to deal with, which he did by choking on it before spitting half of it up into his own hand. He looked horrified. 

“Never swallowed before?”

“No.” Aziraphale’s blue eyes had grown huge and Anthony just wanted to give him a hug despite the mess running down his chin. 

“No big deal. C’mon, let’s go get you cleaned up and next time we’ll have something handy for you to spit into or I won’t come in your mouth.”

They went to the small washroom off the living room where Aziraphale washed his hands and Anthony helped him wash his face, carefully wiping off his chin before stepping back to look at his shirt and waistcoat. No stray drops were present and Anthony put down the washcloth with a smile as Aziraphale stared back at him.

“It happens, Aziraphale. Haven’t you ever given until the guy comes before?”

“No.”

“New relationships are a learning curve. I should know. I spent a few years having way too many relationships. But not any more.” He pulled Aziraphale close for a kiss. “We’re figuring it all out. Don’t worry that this keeps happening. You’re doing great. Now, let’s go back to the couch and I can return the favour.”

This time it was Anthony situated between Aziraphale’s legs, pleasing his angel, savouring that he could do this for him in return. Cocking a mischievous eyebrow at Aziraphale Anthony leaned forward to give him a kiss on the very tip of his cock before preparing to show him a good time. Aziraphale agreed that a very good time was had by both of them and it was made even better when Anthony crawled up beside him to hold him long into the evening after their sexual exploits were over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I moved them into together just for the sake of easier writing. It's probably not common to do so after such a short time, but it's make believe in the end. 😁


	13. The Stress of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee works to get back to normal while still thinking about how they were saved from the fire. Ligur wants to get his life together and would like it if Hastur cleaned himself up as well. Aziraphale is stuck working long hours because Uriel leaves her position at the shop.

Dagon watched as Bee did their hand exercises, the pain evident on their face. Concerned, she walked over to the chair Bee was sitting in and took the foam wedge they were given to squeeze away from them. Bee looked up, angry at such an intrusion, but Dagon only shrugged. Taking the wedge over to the kitchen, she set it on the counter while Bee stood up, flexing their hand. Dagon came back with a glass of water and a pill that she handed to Bee who thanked her before complying and swallowing it with a few sips.

“I didn’t ask for a nurse,” Bee groused.

“If I wasn’t taking care of you, you’d be pushing yourself to your limits.”

“It’s only my hand.”

“You were told hands are delicate and overdoing it might ruin your chances at getting back full movement.”

Bee went to the window in the living room where they sat in the window seat, Cerberus beside them asking for attention. Idly they reached out to scratch between his floppy ears, immediately feeling better. They smiled down at him before paying attention to Dagon again who stood with her hands on her hips looking cross. Bee shrugged. She sat down next to them, budging Cerberus out of the way slightly to lay her hand on Bee’s thigh.

“Don’t do anything to screw yourself over. Let yourself heal. I had a cousin who didn’t follow instructions and now can’t bend his left knee completely after surgery.”

“Between you and my brother, I can’t win this. I just want back to normal as soon as possible.”

“Normal? You were never normal.”

Bee laughed, the sound clear and bright as it rang across the living room. Dagon enjoyed hearing it because Bee didn’t laugh very often these days, but she was determined to change that. Bee slid a hand over on top of Dagon’s.

“Yeah, you have a point there.”

“They’re starting to get the store cleaned up. It’ll be a while, but we’ll be back in business. At least until I find a better job and you decide to get further education.”

“Yeah, that’s great. I don’t know how soon I’ll be back. It’s only a hand wound but who knows when the doctors will release me.” Bee looked at her with their pale blue eyes. “Education? Oh, don’t you start acting like my mother. Of course, she’d set me up in a job in the family business if I wanted it. No nepotism there.”

“I don’t think it's too bad in your family. They’d yank you right out again if you were incompetent.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

But Bee was thinking of furthering their education and physical therapy was looking interesting now that they had had experience with it. Yes, it meant working with people rather closely, but it was people who needed help, not the mindless public who came into a retail shop to buy unneeded merchandise. There was research to do on it, for sure. Bee was not going to go into another industry only to deal with grief like that every day. But from what she observed so far, it looked like there were very few people interested in being outright jerks to their physical therapists. It appealed to them on some level — getting the chance to do some decent work and not get everything handed to them. Lazy was not their way even if it was Anthony’s.

“I’m thinking about looking into physical therapy.”

“Oh?” Dagon’s sparse eyebrows raised in surprise. “You don’t like people.”

“I don’t like customers. Big difference.”

“No, I believe you’ve said you don’t like people.”

“Prudence!”

“I hate that name,” one Prudence Dagon muttered.

“I know,” Bee smirked a self-satisfied smile. “It makes great blackmail material.”

Dagon laughed and laid her head on Bee’s shoulder. They weren’t dating yet, but the time together was bringing them closer together. Dagon was very glad Bee decided to spend time recuperating at her flat. Bee reached up and stroked Dagon’s hair in return making Dagon believe she could easily get used to this. She reached over to scratch Cerberus as well. She hadn’t been big on dogs before — not that she actively disliked them — but they weren’t her favourite animals. Yet Cerberus was a sweetheart of a dog, and he was growing on her quickly. Maybe it was because of who owned him.

~*~*~

Hastur had shown up at Ligur’s flat again with his wares wanting a place to package them. He was standing at the door holding a case of beer when Ligur opened it. He inwardly sighed, but gestured his friend in the door anyway, hoping that maybe one more lecture about bring that stuff he sold in the place was no longer acceptable In fact, Ligur was hoping that he could convince Hastur to give it up and get a legitimate job even though such a prospect was an uphill battle in the making. For not the first time, Ligur was glad he never got involved with any kind of major substance that all but guaranteed addiction. He had thrown out what little he had left of the stuff he did have after a long night thinking about it. 

“This is the last time, Hastur,” he said. “My flatmate’s not going to be gone forever. I don’t need the police crawling around here, either.”

“Still trying to impress Michael?” Hastur threw his mac on the back of the couch, not taking out the contents in its pockets yet. “She’s not going to stay. She’ll get bored and move on. Uni girls are like that. They don’t want someone who doesn’t have a fancy degree and job to match.”

Ligur looked coldly at him. “I _am_ certified as an electrician. It’s a good living if I can get back into it. You know I got fired from my last electrical job because I was either high or drunk.”

“Whatever. Spend your life slaving away thinking it’s the dream. I spend my time how I want.” Hastur wandered off to the kitchen. “You got any beer to add to these?”

“Yeah, there are a couple still in the fridge. I haven’t done any shopping, but I’ll get some when I do.”

“You’re not much fun any more,” Hastur called from the kitchen.

Ligur sat on the couch. “Why? Jesus, all I said was I didn’t buy beer.”

Hastur came in carrying an open bottle. “We’re not hanging out as much.”

Ligur snorted and turned on the television to find something decent to watch on Hulu or something. “Trying to get my act together. You should, too.”

“I’m fine, Ligur.”

They settled on an action film from the U.S. and sat back to drink and watch. Hastur eyed his friend a couple of times while they relaxed wondering what got into him and why he was so determined to impress a girl who wasn’t going to stick around. He considered it for a moment or two then figured it wasn’t worth his time. Ligur would end up dumped and Hastur would still be here to be his best friend. It had happened before, it would happen again. He took another swig of beer and concentrated on the plot of the film again.

~*~*~

Aziraphale dumped individually-wrapped bath bombs into a small display barrel, making note he needed to order more this week and remembering that the end-of-month paperwork was due not that that was his responsibility. Gloria Uriel had given up her position and moved over to Cheesecake Factory’s new bakery division where she was so far well-behaved, but her former employees knew that would change as soon as she was not being so closely watched. Anthony was trying to keep that at bay by also keeping a close watch on her when he was working. He did not like her at all after how she treated Aziraphale and was determined to make sure she knew he would not tolerate such behaviour from her at her new job.

Aziraphale was now the temporary shop manager and thrown into the position right before the holiday season began. He was more stressed than he had ever been in his life and was thankful uni would soon be on break for a while. And it was wonderful he not only had Anthony as support but got to come home to him every night. He was also glad he had a month to get out of his old flat because some days he came home too tired from working a double shift and attending classes as well as trying to keep on top of his homework and the packing. Anthony was over there whenever he could be, but Aziraphale couldn’t, getting things into boxes and marvelling about how much Aziraphale had managed to fit into his small place.

He returned the box to the backroom, going to sit at the desk in the makeshift office to take a breather. He had been going for at a mad pace for a week straight now and wanted very badly to have a day off. One was coming this Saturday but that was still three days away. He couldn’t keep going at this pace. Aziraphale needed another assistant manager now that they were short one thanks to his sudden promotion, but since it was expected he would return to being an assistant, corporate ignored the hole in staffing until they hired a new general manager despite the pressure it was putting on Aziraphale. How did they just expect him to handle a full-time job and university? It was becoming frustrating. No, it wasn’t _becoming_ frustrating. It had long past that point and was moving quickly into maddening.

Sarah knocked on the door to get his attention before entering. He raised his head and swivelled the chair around to face her, as cheerful of a smile as he could muster upon his face. 

“Hi. Anthony’s here.”

“Oh? He is? Thank you, Sarah. Do you mind if I take a break now?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. Take an hour, Aziraphale. You’ve had to work these insane shifts and there’s enough of us here to handle things without you for a while. We’ll call if we need anything.”

A grateful look washed over his face. “Thank you. I could use a longer break. I will see you in an hour.”

He headed out to have Anthony whisk him away to a nearby café for something different from the fast-food meal could get at the shopping centre. They sat down and ordered food that would be quick in coming but still better than eating fried stuff, Anthony taking off his horrible work tie to drape it across the back of his chair. Sitting across from him was one worn out blond whom he wished he could take home and cuddle with until all his burdens had been lifted. He reached across the table to take Aziraphale’s hands in his, running his fingers over the soft skin of them. He could feel Aziraphale relax slightly under the touch, but what he needed most was some time off. 

“I love you and I hate you’re having to work so much. Your school work is going to start suffering if this keeps up.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, the bags under his eyes visible. “So far it’s not and it’s temporary. Besides, winter break is coming up so my stress levels won’t be so high then. I’ll be okay.”

“I feel like taking you home and putting you to bed. You look exhausted, angel.”

“In four hours if you want to, you can. I’m caught up on my school work for once.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Their food arrived and both dug in, enjoying the time together since this morning was a rush to tumble out of bed, get dressed and get off to their jobs. Anthony barely had time to give Aziraphale a goodbye kiss before he had to hurry off to prepare the shop for opening. Anthony had been left there without anything to do for a while and used the time to have a quick conversation with Gabriel as much as it made him feel slimy to even be around the man. He had agreed to talk to his parents about Gabriel the next time he saw them.

After that unpleasant encounter, he had been waiting tables at the restaurant and noticing how much nicer Michael was being to him. Well, for Michael, anyway. He never expected her to be anything close to friendly with him. Today she wasn’t on his arse about anything, real or imagined, which made for a pleasant shift for a change. In fact, she asked him what was up with Uriel, and he surprised himself by telling her that she was Aziraphale’s old boss who never treated subordinates well. 

“I guess I’ll avoid her as much as I can,” Michael had said. 

It was as close to thanks as he’d get from her. He accepted it for what it was without comment and got back to work.

“Interesting,” said Aziraphale in the here and now as he ate his sandwich. “I thought Michael was going to carry a grudge against you forever. She does seem the type.”

“Well, she’s been sleeping with Ligur. Maybe getting laid has calmed her down.”

“Ligur? Bee’s flatmate?”

“Yeah. Something, huh?”

“He hardly seems her type.”

“Maybe it’s a case of any port in a storm.”

“Anthony, that’s rather rude.”

Anthony shrugged, a sly smile on his handsome face. “You said he wasn’t her type.”

Aziraphale let it go. “I think I’ll hold off on packing for a few days. Do you mind, my dear?”

“No. You need the rest. I don’t work this weekend . . . no idea why, but that means I can head over there to get stuff done. It’s no problem.”

“Are you sure? You’ve done so much.” Aziraphale was giving him the sappiest look that was threatening to melt Anthony’s heart. 

“It’s sticking things in boxes. I put on Spotify and get to work. No big deal. The movers will be doing the heavy lifting. I know you’d be doing it if they weren’t working you to death.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale was determined to do something for Anthony to show his appreciation. The only problem was coming up with an idea. He had discovered presents were hard when your boyfriend had the means to buy what he wanted when he wanted it. “I don’t know what to do with most of my furniture.”

“I have four bedrooms, Aziraphale. One of them doesn’t have anything in it right now but some boxes because my grandmother had got rid of everything to remodel it right before she got sick and passed away. She never did more than replace the carpet and I do not need three guest bedrooms. Fill it with your stuff.”

Aziraphale popped the last of his dinner in his mouth and thought on it while he chewed. His couch was second-hand and falling apart, and his mattress had seen better days. He could get rid of those no problem. A cheap mattress would be easy enough to buy if he moved into his own place at a later date and he’d still have his chair, which he used more than the couch, to read in until he could buy better living room furniture. But something in him saw him never moving out of Anthony’s. Why did he always have the feeling that he was the last relationship he was ever going to have? That they would be together until the end of their days? Sometimes he wanted to ask Anthony if he felt the same way, but they’d been dating two months. What a way to scare the boyfriend he was living with. Little did he know Anthony sometimes had wild unbidden thoughts about asking Aziraphale to just marry him so they could happily settle down together forever.

“I think I’m going throw away the couch and my mattress. My bookshelves can go where we discussed. That leaves my kitchen table and chairs, my reading chair, and my bedroom furniture to be stored along with a few boxes of stuff that’s just going to duplicate what you have. It’s not like we need two blenders or anything.”

“Who said I have a blender?”

Aziraphale laughed. “You did make those blended margaritas that one time. You have one.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I did. Huh, I wonder where I put it?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes teasingly. 

~*~*~

Gabriel was never comfortable meeting in this location, but Sandy wanted to this time. Sandy had recently purchased a warehouse and had it outfitted so that it could house his brother’s breeding population of several species of snakes from kingsnakes, to ball pythons, boa constrictors. Sandy would get a percentage of the profits from the sale of the offspring. Snakes creeped Gabriel out, even if they were kept in locked cages. As far as he was concerned Sandy’s brother was weird for wanting to even be involved with animals that made the average human feel uncomfortable. He eyed a rack full of carefully labelled bins that each contained different morphs of ball pythons and moved closer to the door. 

“Why are we meeting here?”

“My brother’s out of town for a funeral. Old uni friend died of cancer and someone has to look in on the snakes. It’s a private place to talk. I don’t quite trust Anthony Crowley,” Sandy replied. “He’s up to something.”

“Like what?” Gabriel looked confused. “He seems sincere in his actions.”

“That kid’s not sincere in anything. I have Tony keep him around because of his connections, but he’s flattering you for a reason. He wants something.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I have to disagree. He truly seems to want to put me in touch with his parents since you refused. I think the kid just wants a better class of friends that he used to have.”

Calling Anthony a kid was a bit much. Gabriel was in his late twenties, meaning less than ten years were separating the two.

“It’s nothing against you, Gabriel. It would have been awkward. You should have just joined the club.”

“I didn’t have the funds! Anyway, the fire investigation’s over and nobody’s the wiser. The water and smoke damage got rid of evidence and the manager didn’t get a clear look at their faces. We’re good. It’ll remain an open investigation but they’re not going to work on it. They have bigger fish to fry. Anyway, about this other business idea of yours?”

Sandy nodded and started to explain it.

~*~*~

Bee lay on the couch staring at the ceiling wondering about their rescue once again. Now that they were out of the hospital they pondered if it was possible to do some investigations into it or it that was just a fool’s errand. No matter what Anthony or Dagon said about them being extremely stressed because they were in a dangerous situation, it still seemed so real. What were two men who looked so much like Anthony and Aziraphale doing in the backroom? How was it possible the one who looked like Anthony had put out the fire with just a gesture? And did the other who resembled Aziraphale do something to make Bee fall asleep? Why leave? Why not stay and be witnesses? What did they have to lose if they hung around? 

And that wasn’t the only time they had seen the Aziraphale-like person. They could have sworn they saw him walking away from them when they headed out into the hallway to have a walk up and down it while still in the hospital. How many beige frock coats were being worn around London these days? Also, they saw he had that white-blond hair, just like Aziraphale’s. They squinted at a small crack in the ceiling. Same curls, too. She began to wonder about guardian angels because she caught just a glance of him before doing a double-take and he had disappeared. 

They had to figure this out.

It bothered them. Grouchy about it, they shifted on the couch so they were facing the back of it instead of staring at a blank white ceiling. It wasn’t much improvement as Dagon had chosen a rather cheery lighter plum-coloured couch with red throw pillows, but Dagon never was one to embrace only darker shades like Bee and both of them had been growing out of the goth culture for some time. It would always be part of them, but interests changed over time and working retail where they saw the worst the subculture and its wannabes had to offer in the store on almost a daily basis curbed the enthusiasm somewhat. 

Where could they start their investigation? This was going to take some thought, that was the only thing Bee knew. Finally, they decided to get up to take Cerberus for a walk. Calling the dog into the living room, they clipped his leash on, shrugged into their leather jacket while he danced on the carpet, panting in his excitement. Opening the door, she took him out to stroll around the neighbourhood.

It was a quiet time of the afternoon without much traffic or people out walking around and the brisk weather kept those who didn’t like the cold inside. Bee didn’t mind it so much even if Dagon didn’t like the changing of seasons until she got used to the different weather and Anthony spent the winter swearing he was going to move to the Mediterranean until England warmed back up again in the spring. They breathed in the crisp air, closing their eyes as Cerberus sniffed about a tree, one of his favourite activities. Fall made them feel alive for some reason and Bee just thought it was because they were coming back down from the hotter weather of summer and it was before winter with its sleet and rain and occasional snow. 

The boxer tugged at his leash wanting to move on to the next exciting smell, probably to urinate on it. Simple pleasures. Bee strolled along behind him allowing him to go wherever he wanted as long as it wasn’t up on someone’s property. One or twice he attempted to interrupt some other dog’s walk, but Bee pulled him to heel. They never let Cerberus bother a strange dog just in case it wasn’t dog friendly. They let him stop as much as he wanted, something Bee did not normally do, but at every stop they took a moment to look around, hoping to find some clue to their so-called guardian angels. So far they had only seen a handful of people as they circled the block. Dagon lived in a rather quiet neighbourhood.

Dagon had got a modest inheritance from a childless great aunt who had passed on and gave a bit of money to all the great nieces and nephews she considered her grandchildren. She had scraped together a bit more and used it all to buy a small flat in a nice area. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She had planned to build equity in it to eventually buy a bigger place. Bee envied her because without tapping into the trust fund they refused, they didn’t have enough saved to get the most dilapidated dwelling for sale in the greater London area. Yet they felt guilty for even complaining about it because of the nice house with a garden in Crystal Palace that had sat waiting for them to occupy it until their father got tired of waiting and leased it out. In their head, these sounded very much like poor little rich person problems. 

They sighed. Sometimes they wondered if it was time to talk to Anthony about their share in the trust fund. Maybe it was stupid to refuse it. 

No. It was right, and they could make it on their own even if it meant some struggles along the way. They urged Cerberus to move on, looking out anything that might point to information about the mystery of the two men. It was probably a long shot that they'd find any evidence out here, but it was the chance they had right now.


	14. What May Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Aziraphale start packing despite the exhaustion Aziraphale is feeling over how busy he is lately. Gabriel gets in on Sandy's new business idea even if he's not sure about it.

Anthony sat on Aziraphale’s couch surrounded by boxes half-packed with books and Aziraphale’s other possessions. He was using his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear as he wrapped up dishes taken out of the kitchen cupboards and talked.

“He’s running a suit shop in the shopping centre that isn’t doing so well and he’s friends with Sandy so he’s bothering me to network with you and Mum.” 

Anthony put another dish in the box and grabbed an unwrapped one off the coffee table as he listened to his father’s reply. 

“I know . . . yeah, it is a difficult spot and I owe you if you do this. And while I got you, have you thought any more about giving me a job at the company? I’m being responsible and not buying stuff like I used to. I’ve settled down and grown as a person.” He paused. “I know . . . nepotism and all that, but who doesn’t do it? I’ve got a degree in business management and I’d get a job in that but everyone wants two years experience. And that one place I interviewed at got scared when they found out whom I’m related to. You’ve got me penned in here, Dad.”

Another dish went in the box as Anthony rolled his eyes, listened to the lecture and told his father Gabriel’s number. His father was never going to understand his position and he was going to have to endure two more years of crappy jobs before he could take over the trust for himself. It wasn’t fair he wasn’t allowed to work at the company. What was wrong with letting him intern there? Not like they’d have to pay him and he’d be running the place one of these days. How was he going to do that without proper training? Anthony was suddenly afraid of turning out like Gabriel — thrown into a position and expected to make it work because his father had some grand plan that tossing Anthony out into life would make him a better leader. Maybe it would, but it took more than empathy for one’s employees to make a business work.

“OK. Talk to you later. Bye.”

He slammed the phone on the coffee table upset at receiving yet another no on the internship. He felt a little pity for Gabriel in his current situation, but it quickly dissipated after he thought about how the man might be involved in the fire that could have taken his sibling’s life. Besides, he was a wanker, anyway. Anthony stopped that train of thought and got back to packing until he heard the front door open.

Aziraphale entered looking very tired. Anthony stood up, looking concerned as he brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. 

“Angel, I was going to come to get you. What are you doing here?”

“I left early. My assistant manager can handle closing. I’m so exhausted.” He fell into the couch’s old cushions, leaning heavily on the arm with his head in his hand. “But I thought maybe I’d still have enough energy to help you pack. It’s just wrapping items up and putting them in boxes.”

“We can go home if you need to. There’s plenty of time to pack.” 

Anthony had moved over beside him, examining Aziraphale’s face very carefully. There were dark circles under his beautiful blue eyes that made Aziraphale look aged beyond his twenty-one years. Anthony did not like it at all and his protective side rose to the surface once again. He took Aziraphale’s hand and stood up, causing his boyfriend to rise with him. Once they both had stood, Anthony headed to the door. 

“No, we’re not staying. You need to sleep.”

“Anthony, please. I can sit here packing away dishes. It’s not that demanding,” protested Aziraphale as he was pulled towards the door.

Anthony would not hear of it and Aziraphale found himself packed up into the Bentley to be whisked away home. Once there, he was ordered to the bedroom and all but tucked into bed by Anthony despite his protests. He sat propped up in pillows in the large bed he now shared with him every night, those large blue eyes staring reproachfully at Anthony who was pulling his dark grey pyjamas out of the wardrobe across the room.

“You treat me like I’m delicate.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“And I do appreciate it, but please don’t wrap me in bubble wrap like one of my dishes. Please, Anthony?”

Anthony climbed on the bed, crawling up to straddle Aziraphale and take his head into his hands. Their eyes met — Aziraphale’s baby blues and Anthony’s nearly yellow ones, holding contact for a moment before Anthony moved in for a loving kiss, gently placing his mouth against Aziraphale’s for longer than their eyes held contact. 

“I can handle myself,” Aziraphale whispered after their lips parted.

“I know. But you have support now in me and you might as well take advantage of it.” Anthony sighed. “I know we haven’t been together very long, but you’re precious to me. The best thing to come into my life in a very long time, maybe ever.” He paused as he noticed Demeter push open the door and saunter in. Some nights she slept at the foot of the bed on Aziraphale’s side. “And you don’t have any support system nearby except me and our friends. I know what it’s like to go without much of a support system. My parents seem to think the best way to teach me is to throw me out into the world to learn about ‘normal’ people. They’d give Bee a job in a heartbeat, but I can’t convince them to give me even an unpaid internship. Dad keeps saying to wait a few more years. I’m already twenty-three. What else does he want? Anyway . . . Let me take care of you? You deserve it.”

Aziraphale fixed him with a stern look that quickly turned soft. “Only if you allow me to take care of you in return.”

“Deal.”

He gave the cat, who had settled herself in a chair in the corner where he had thrown his black shirt, a look. He’d only had it on a few hours, not long enough to consider throwing it in the dirty laundry, and now it was going to be gloriously covered in off-white cat hair in the morning. Sighing again, he settled down next to Aziraphale, who teased him about having such a monochromatic wardrobe. Like Bee, he wore a lot of black. Unlike Bee, he was never into the goth scene. Or remotely interested in cat-hair-covered clothing. 

“I swear she knows.”

“She’s just a cat.”

“They’re smarter than you think and she doesn’t like me.”

“I’ve had her since she was a kitten and got her after I broke up with my ex. She has some jealousy issues since I’m spending time with you, I believe. She’ll come around.”

“Animals don’t like me. I used to fall off of horses during riding lessons.”

Aziraphale laughed at that. “Somehow that seems like something that would happen to you. I’m sorry, my dear.”

They settled in and Anthony turned out the light. Aziraphale rolled over to face him, silhouetted against the light coming from the hallway. Neither one of them had remembered to turn off the lights in the living room before heading to bed and now neither of them wanted to get up to perform that task. “Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?”

“I dunno. But I agree . . . our relationship feels so old. I could almost feel comfortable asking you to marry me,” Anthony replied before hastily adding. “I’m not. Asking, that is. It’s too soon to think about such things. I’m just saying . . .” He broke off, not sure what to add with sounding silly.

“When we get to the point that we’ve known each other longer and the time is right . . . I’ll say yes,” Aziraphale murmured.

Anthony wasn’t sure there was a reply he could give that wouldn’t have him making a fool of himself. Instead, he reached out over the covers to grasp Aziraphale’s hand and they fell asleep with legs entwined, hands clasped. Aziraphale slept soundly through the night, not noticing Anthony’s constant shifting as through his mind travelled several odd dreams about weddings, some of them happy despite their oddness and others more terrifying. He eventually curled himself tightly around Aziraphale, breathing in the sweet scent of him even on this unconscious level and his sleeping mind found it calming. 

The alarm on Anthony’s phone went off entirely too early. Groaning he rolled over to shut it off and rolled back to over to look over Aziraphale, who appeared so fragile and innocent to him as he lay with his eyes closed. No wonder he was so protective of him, thought Anthony. He seems too good for this world. Reluctant to do so, Anthony gently shook him awake.

“Good morning, angel. You have class this morning, but I’m considering tempting you into skiving off because you need to sleep. Badly.” 

“Mmmm, no. Have to go.”

“Awww, you mean Michael won’t give you notes?”

“She’s not in this class. It’s Information and Resource Management.” Aziraphale still hadn’t opened his eyes. “But the lecturer does put all his notes online.”

“Then take a day off. It’s your only class before work isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to sleep, angel.”

“Will do.” He rolled over and Anthony wasn’t sure if he was truly awake in the first place. 

Anthony didn’t work until three o’clock today. He’d probably drop Aziraphale off for his one o’clock shift and head to the coffee shop with his laptop to waste time drinking overpriced lattes while he gamed online. Or maybe he’d check in with old Gabe. He doubted his father had called him yet, but he could at least let that annoying arse licker know he’d held up his end of the bargain. He felt he was getting somewhere because now Gabriel was talking about the fire and how Macabre had deserved it while also complaining about the construction work going on as they replaced drywall, carpet and ceiling tiles that had been damaged or destroyed. Up in the front of the store, new shelving was brought in to replace the ones shattered by Sandy’s hired goons. 

Resetting his phone’s alarm, he decided to get some more sleep himself. Shoving the device under his pillow, he fell back on the fluffy thing and cuddled up close to Aziraphale to catch a couple of hours’ more sleep. The world could wait for now. Soon, one could only hear the soft breathing of the two slumbering in the bed and the occasional demanding meow of Demeter, who wanted to be fed.

Getting up later proved just as hard, but both were motivated to roll out of bed this time. They had things to do that couldn’t be skipped or put off until later. Aziraphale shuffled to the bathroom to get in a quick shower while Anthony made coffee and put out food for the cat. He did have a fancy coffee maker that would automatically make a pot of coffee, but he had completely forgotten to set it last night and besides, they were up two hours later than they normally would have been, meaning they would have just awakened to a pot of not-quite-fresh coffee. Anthony couldn’t stand hours-old coffee. Aziraphale told him he was spoiled.

Five minutes later, he was slipping in the shower with Aziraphale who smiled as he poured shampoo into his palm.

“I thought for a moment there you weren’t coming. I would have been rather disappointed.”

Anthony’s incredibly large shower was big enough to contain two shower heads, which made bathing together so much easier. Aziraphale didn’t have to move aside to allow Anthony access to the water. Anthony merely slid under the free head and started wetting down his hair while Aziraphale shampooed his hair and stole discreet looks at his partner’s whip-thin body. He still didn’t see what Anthony saw in a chubby student like himself, but he did very much appreciate that Anthony did love him for what he was and never had made any suggestion that he lose weight. 

“Need help?” he asked Anthony after he had rinsed his own hair out. 

“Sure. You know how I like having my hair messed with.”

Aziraphale poured Anthony’s creamy sandalwood scented shampoo in his hand and tenderly worked it through Anthony’s gorgeous red hair from root to tip. He loved washing, brushing and braiding those long locks and the gestures in return soothed Anthony when he was feeling anxious. It was a small gesture compared to the larger ones Anthony had been showing him lately, but at least he was able to partially pay him back for all the protective caring he was showing him during this stressful time in his life. Aziraphale vowed he was going to completely make it up to him somehow even if it took him months to repay the debt. 

“How’s that feel?” he asked.

“If I was a cat, I’d purr.”

“Wonderful! I do so love pampering you, my dear.”

“I could learn to like it.”

“Cheek!”

Anthony just laughed in reply, his hands coming up to rest on Aziraphale’s for a moment before he protested if only because the touch interfered with his work and Anthony’s luxurious hair was thick and full, thus hard to rinse the soap out of effectively, especially when hampered by someone caressing you as you attempted to do so. He resisted the strong urge to take Anthony’s ear between his teeth and nibble on it gently, starting off a chain of events that would most likely end in the bedroom. There was no time for that now since the world awaited them.

The shower was too short, they both lamented as they sat with their coffee and some bagels for breakfast — quick, easy and could be eaten on the way to the Bentley, but not in it because Anthony did not allow food in his precious car. Aziraphale licked the cream cheese from his fingers before opening the passenger side door. Anthony smirked to see how easy it had been to train Aziraphale to eat everything before getting into the vehicle. He turned the ignition key. 

“Ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be. This is dreadful and I look forward to the day when they hire a new manager. Remind me to go online later to fetch notes from my class?”

“Okay. I have a printer, too, if you want to print them off.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think of that! You are such a sweetheart, Anthony.” Aziraphale smiled beatifically at him, baby blues sparkling. 

Anthony would do anything to see that smile. He might as well just acknowledge that now. That done, he put the Bentley in gear and drove them off to their stupid jobs at that stupid shopping centre. Today was not going to be a fun day for either of them, but at least there was tonight to look forward to. He was bringing home Italian tonight with a bottle of red wine and planning a bit of romance since that had been pushed off to the side thanks to Aziraphale’s exhaustion and the need to pack. They deserved a quiet meal and night alone to unwind.

~*~*~

Gabriel stalked into Sandy’s office in Central London with a smile on his face. “I got it. Anthony Crowley told me he’d mention me to his father, said his parents were always looking for good people to mentor. Thanks for nothing.”

Sandy eyed him, irritated at the interruption when he had important business to take care off. He resented that Gabriel had bullied his receptionist so much she was afraid to even stop him when he came into the building any more. “You’re welcome. I told you I barely know the man. I couldn’t just walk up to Trevor Crowley and introduce you. I was lucky enough he actually noticed me long enough to talk to me about giving his kid a job.”

“This is it. I’m getting in the big leagues. I’ll have access to investors now.” Gabriel sank into one of the plush chairs in front of Sandy’s desk, leaning back cockily. 

“So, did you think about my proposal?”

“Allowing smugglers to hide exotic animals in your building? I think it’s crazy. Do you know how much trouble we’ll be in if we get caught?”

“It’s a one-time deal. Their buyers need to lie low for a couple of months and they need a place to keep them. I don’t see much of a risk. They’ll be in and out in no time. I just need you to there to open up the building for them, maybe keep an eye on things once or twice a week and I give you a third of the money. You could use it. Not much work for a good amount of pounds.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I have a guy who says he’d be willing to lurk around, guard the building on days you can’t keep an eye on it. Water and feed the birds and make sure the snakes aren’t dead, Nobody will be messing with those but their professional handler. They’re venomous. They’ll remain locked up and only he will have the keys.”

“Who’s this guy?”

“Jack Hastur. He’s been in the drug scene, wants out into higher-paying, less risky stuff.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, venomous snakes . . . that’s less risky. No noisy birds, right?”

“I said no parrots or anything that’ll sing loudly. They said they’re bringing in finches from Guyana. Finch singing contests are big in some places. They gamble on which birds can sing the most chirps in a minute or something like that.”

“Finch singing contests . . . okay . . .” Gabriel looked and sounded sceptical. “I guess whatever floats your boat.”

“You in?”

“Yes, I’m in. I need the money.”

“Good.”

Sandy extending a hand and Gabriel jovially grabbed it up to shake it. What he’d get paid would give him a few months’ cushion for the suit business.

~*~*~

“I’m sorry that soap caused you to get a rash. Of course, we’ll refund your money,” Aziraphale said to the customer before him sporting a face covered in reddish bumps that made him feel sorry for her. 

He hated doing returns. They took so long, resulting in a long line of impatient and irritated customers on busy days as they only had two tills. He pushed the wrong buttons on the computer, causing it to beep at him and him to blush in embarrassment at messing up something that had become muscle memory. The woman making the return smiled sympathetically. She was a frequent customer whom Aziraphale had got to know over time. 

“You look exhausted. How much are they working you?”

“Too much for my comfort, unfortunately. But we’re without a manager and I’m the senior assistant manager. So, it’s up to me.” He fumbled through the codes and the till opened so he could count out some cash for her. “There you go, ma’am. I hope this doesn’t put you off of our product.”

“Oh, it won’t. I apparently just can’t handle that particular scent. I’ve never had a problem before. Thank you, Aziraphale.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.”

He stepped aside to rub his eyes. Two hours left in his shift and he wasn’t sure he could make it. He was half-tempted to walk out right here and now, but he couldn’t. He had bills to pay despite having a rich boyfriend. As it was, he already owed Anthony so much for all he did for him. Besides, acting like some kind of spoiled brat in need of constant handouts from him was no way to run a relationship. Aziraphale realised he had to find a way to pull his own weight and he was determined to do so, even if it meant a few unpleasant weeks until they hired someone to take over the manager position from him. Then he was determined to apply to take all the holiday leave he had built up so he could recuperate. 

Across the way, Anthony was having a hell of a time staying on top of everything and he heard a few of the servers complain about being “in the weeds,” a nice phrase about being so busy they were swamped brought into the restaurant by the American exchange student friend of one of them. It would prove a useful phrase as long as the managers never caught on to the meaning; they had a pet peeve about complaining as if everyone should be happy at every moment of their shift no matter the stress levels — well, at least if you were low in the hierarchy. Managers could throw near-literal temper tantrums if they so desired without hearing a lecture from someone in a higher position. Anthony was ready to quit. He didn’t need this.

Maybe Aziraphale was on to something with that bookshop idea of his. Maybe they could buy a little place, make it into a second-hand bookshop like Aziraphale wanted and spend their time tending their own business. Aziraphale could be the one to acquire what they sold and actually sell it while Crowley handled the business end of things. He knew bookshops were not the kind of business that paved the way to riches, but if they made enough to keep the shop viable, that was all that mattered. They could run that for the pleasure of running something which Aziraphale loved and would keep them busy. The money from the trust would be what they lived off of. 

“Anthony! Wake up!” a cook yelled at him as he put Anthony’s finished order on the counter for him.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Anthony grabbed a tray and piled the dishes on it, taking out to Table 8, still thinking of the bookshop idea even if it was for now just a pipe dream.

~*~*~

After work, Aziraphale sat in the bathtub in Anthony’s master bathroom soaking in a warm bubble bath in the large modern-looking tub separated from the rest of it by a screen of tropical plants. It was a strange bathroom like Aziraphale had never seen before. The shower was level with the floor and the only thing that screened it off from the rest of the bath was a glass wall between it and the toilet. Two sinks were beside that and across from the shower sat the bathtub Aziraphale currently lolled in eating a piece of the chocolate Anthony had bought for him. The entire bathroom was tastefully done in beiges, greys and whites.

“What is this exactly? I’ve never seen a bathroom set up like this or with such a shower,” he had asked Anthony the first time he had entered the room. “It seems the water would get everywhere.”

“Technically, it’s a wet room. The floor’s sealed so water won’t ruin the subflooring and the shower can get water everywhere without worry,” Anthony had replied. “It’s something Grandmum had installed when her arthritis got bad.”

“My mother would love this,” Aziraphale had replied. “She always did enjoy a nice soak. I should call my parents. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Worry about your mother some other time. Just soak, eat your chocolate and I’ll be right back. I need to water the plants.” 

Aziraphale found himself left alone in the large tub with a stool beside it upon which sat a box of fine chocolates and a glass of dessert wine. Soothing classical music was playing as he lay in the warm water listening to the bubbles pop and the water slosh when he moved to pick another piece of chocolate out of the box or take a sip of wine. He could get used to this life; it wouldn’t take much at all. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, not knowing how long he spent with them shut. Aziraphale only opened them when the water started to cool and he sat up to let some of it out and replace it with hot water, allowing them to close again as he settled back. He didn’t hear Anthony enter over the sound of the tap.

Droplets fell on his shoulder and he reopened his eyes to see his boyfriend sprinkling water on him with a mischievous smile. 

“Going to join me?” he asked.

“Yes. Someone is going to have to keep you from turning into a giant flesh-coloured raisin.”

Anthony quickly shed his clothing and stepped in, seating himself in front of Aziraphale where Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Anthony’s chest. The redhead leaned back against the blond’s chest and rested there, content in the quiet time they could share. Aziraphale reached up to stroke his head, dampening the hair where he touched it, feeling just as content as his partner. Lifting his foot, he used his toes to grip the bathtub’s tab, turning it off so neither of them had to lean forward to do it. Anthony laughed and put his hand on top of the arm of Aziraphale’s that still rested across his chest.

“Lazy of you, angel.”

“If I’m lazy, then I’m no angel. I doubt Heaven encourages sloth. Isn’t that one of the seven deadly sins?”

“Think so.”

“I want to stay here forever. How’s that for sloth?”

“Nah, that’s just practical. If you’re warm, why move?”

Aziraphale quit his stroking of Anthony’s hair to grab a chocolate, noticing the other wine glass that had joined his on the stool. Smiling he offered the chocolate to Anthony, who leaned forward to take it from him with his mouth. 

“How’s that for lazy?” he said after he had eaten it.

“It’s not lazy. You deserve a little pampering, too.” 

Aziraphale offered another before getting himself one as well. Afterwards, they both picked up their glasses to have a toast, Anthony partially turning in the tub so he could see Aziraphale. They clinked them together, a celebration of making it through a long tiring day.

“To us,” said Anthony. 

“Yes,” replied Aziraphale. “To us. For surviving all this and what’s to come.”

They topped off the toast with a passionate kiss, chocolates and wine now forgotten on the stool as Anthony pulled Aziraphale in his lap and the foreplay began. This time, everything went perfectly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finch singing contests are real. Two male birds' cages are put side-by-side so they'll start competing with each other by singing and whoever sings the most notes over five minutes is the winner. It's popular among immigrant populations from South America who live in New York. Birds are bought or bred legally, but there's always some kind of underbelly to everything. Chestnut-bellied seed finches are smuggled in because it's cheaper than doing it legally, which gets very expensive and requires a month-long quarantine of the birds. 
> 
> It's not something you see too often in England, but I needed a small bird for the story and it's an alternate universe, so I can play by different rules and say it's a popular activity there instead of the U.S. in this particular dimension. 😉


	15. Guardian Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur have differences. Dagon and Bee start to get closer only to have it threatened by Bee's obsession with finding out who rescued them.

Hastur eyed the locked cages full of venomous snakes nervously as he fed and watered the cages of finches. For the most part, they stayed quiet because there was cardboard between each cage to keep them from seeing each other and when they did sing it was soft enough the sound didn’t leave the building. But if they escaped, they wouldn’t kill him, unlike the vipers and cobras currently staring him down from the glass enclosures in the back of this place. He put the last container of water in the last birdcage and let himself out of the building, setting the alarm again. He didn’t even know why he took this gig other than Ligur would temporarily snub him every time he brought up any kind of illegal substance, as he was serious about getting them out of his life. 

How stupid could he get? He could clean himself up all he wanted but Michael wasn’t going to hang around forever. Girls like her didn’t date guys like Ligur for long. Hastur had his thoughts on how love and dating worked, but they were so far of from reality, he was blind to how those two could possibly forge a lasting relationship with each other. He didn’t realise they already had a good start.

He stalked off to the nearby Tube station to take the soonest train to the shopping centre where he would hang out for a few hours harassing patrons until his appointment this afternoon with Sandy. The man apparently saw he would be useful and said he had another job or two lined up for him with the promise they’d become more steady if he proved himself. They paid well, too, more than his usual drug deals once he paid back his supplier. He considered telling Ligur about Sandy’s little gang if there arose another opening in it.

Oh, that’s right. Ligur got himself a job with a local contractor. One that didn’t ask too many questions and believed in second chances as long as you promised to stay off the drugs and on the right side of the law. He seethed to think that Ligur had sold out like that as he pushed through the turnstile and stood around with the rest of the crowd waiting for their trains to arrive. He had been friends with Ligur for . . . well . . . forever since they must through Hastur’s now long-gone cousin, who had moved to some town in Wales, been arrested and was spending the next few years behind bars. He had taken Ligur under his wing and taught him everything he knew. Some repayment he was getting.

The screeching of a train coming to a halt cut through his thoughts and he dropped the subject for now as he boarded it and headed off for his next destination. There was nothing he could do about Ligur right now other than wait and watch everything fall apart. He found himself a seat to slouch in and took it, staring out the window angrily to watch tiled walls and stations fly by as the train took him back to the shopping centre.

~*~*~

Bee entered the flat after having spent the morning at their physical therapist’s before driving over to the shopping centre to snoop around Macabre again only to be turned away by the clean-up crew. They covered up their real reason for being there by saying they were the manager and wanted to see how the work was coming along. One of the workers talked to them for about ten to fifteen minutes before excusing himself to get back to work. It was frustrating and in the end, they decided that everything had probably been moved around so it wouldn’t have been like looking at a scene of the crime type scenario. They closed their eyes as they flopped on the couch and tried to recall where things were as they were being strapped to the wheeled cot so the paramedics could get them into the ambulance. 

They could see the burned merchandise and carpet to their left, still smoking despite the man in black putting out the flames. In front of them was the open door to the office. The desk was there, but not the chair that usually sat in front of it. They figured whoever started the fire removed it to keep them from smashing through the window with it. They hadn’t thought about throwing the computer monitor through it at the time, but hindsight was 20/20, doubly so when in a panicked state. The chair from behind the till had been used to lock the door shut. It had been removed and set off to the side, but the firefighters had touched nothing they did not need to touch, so Bee figured it had not been moved since the man in beige placed it there. Anthony and Dagon reported it was still there when they looked through the backroom. It confirmed someone had been there to get Bee out.

They didn’t know any more than that. Well, what they thought the two looked like aside . . .

And spotting the one in the hospital . . .

“Stop it.” 

Dagon’s voice cut across their thoughts and they turned to see her standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, a beer in her hand. Bee sighed and looked back down at their own hands, brow furrowed in frustration. They wondered how Dagon knew what they were thinking about.

“I know that look and you need to quit fixating on a mystery that’s never going to be solved. You want a beer before I sit down? Because you know my lazy arse isn’t getting off that couch once I sit down on it. It’ll suck me in and I’ll be stuck until it decides to release me.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Dagon returned in no time flat carrying two beers. She handed the unopened one to Bee before sitting down beside her. Bee thought she looked rather pretty in the dark green shirt she was wearing with her black jeans. They tried not to notice how she was looking them over like she was searching for something even though Bee didn’t know what. Bee reached out to take her hand. 

“I have to know.”

“It’s good to want things. Sometimes it’s even better you never find out. Like supermarket sushi. You never want to eat that stuff.”

Bee chuckled. “That’s an old joke.”

“I need to get out more. But I’m stuck here with you and you’re awfully boring lately because all you do is search for guardian angels or whatever. Honestly, Bee. You know many angels who dress in black?” Dagon was concerned, even if she had a weird way of showing it. She squeezed Bee’s hand with worry. “We should go bother Anthony and Aziraphale. I love how annoyed Anthony gets when I put my feet on the furniture and Aziraphale is just so bloody cute.”

“That’s why you want to see them? Because you can annoy one and think the other’s adorable?”

“They’re fun to hang around, even if you are related to one of them. You never did tell me why you two have different last names.” Dagon paused. “Or is that some kind of secret I’m not supposed to know? Like you’re secretly only half-siblings and it’ll cause a scandal if it gets out. Sounds like a television drama or something, doesn’t it?”

Bee frowned at her. “No. I changed my name to my mother’s maiden name when I got old enough. It’s not fair she doesn’t get to have a child with her last name, don’t you think?”

Dagon shrugged. “I don’t know. My parents never married but were happy that way until Dad got the old seven-year itch and ran off with someone my age. But Mum’s glad to be on her own and he hasn’t caught any weird STIs yet, so they’re both still doing okay.”

“You’re so odd, but I like it,” Bee laughed.

“It cheers you up, so I keep saying the strange things.” 

“I think you're barking mad.”

“Sometimes, I guess. But it ironically keeps me sane. You know?”

Bee could only stare at her at first but at least found an appropriate response. “Uh, sure. Whatever works for you.”

“Call your brother. You need to get out of here so you stop thinking about things.”

Grudgingly, Bee got out their phone and dialled Anthony. “We’re coming over.”

“ _What?_ ” snapped Anthony who was home, but not wanting company. “ _You’re not even going to ask? What if Aziraphale and I had plans?_ ”

“You two can spare us some time. See you in a few.”

 _"No. You’re not coming over. We’re busy._ ”

“Bye, Anthony.”

~*~*~

Growling in frustration, Anthony threw the phon on his nightstand and smiled up at Aziraphale, indicating he should roll off of them. With a sigh, Aziraphale complied, flopping onto the pillow beside him.

“Why did you answer that?” he asked peevishly as Anthony threw on a dressing gown. 

“Because Bee’s still recovering and I worry. Normally, I wouldn’t. I’ll be right back. Keep yourself hard.” 

He marched down the hall to the office where he pulled out some stationary, scribbled down a note and stuck it in an envelope. Now, where did he leave his half-apron? Oh yes, on the coffee table. Taking up the envelope and the cellophane tape holder, he jogged down there next where he pulled all the tip money he had forgotten about out of the pocket and stuffed it into the envelope. He sealed it, scribbled Bee’s name on the front and taped it to the front door, which he locked. Heading back down the hall, he made a stop in the office again to drop off the tape dispenser before stripping off his dressing gown on the way to the master bedroom.

Aziraphale lay underneath the covers, one hand not visible. Antony slid in next to him, pulling him in close. They were nose-to-nose as Anthony smiled at his boyfriend, his hand sliding down to join Aziraphale’s.

“So . . . where were we?”

The two joined in a passionate kiss while Aziraphale positioned himself over Anthony again so they could try this once more.

~*~*~

Dagon and Bee got off the lift on Anthony’s floor and walked down the hallway to find an envelope taped to the outside of the door. Bee still rang the doorbell to be a pest while Dagon read the note and muttered how hard it was to read Anthony’s awful writing. His sibling rolled their eyes when nobody came to answer the door, saying under their breath something about what a rude arsehole their brother could be. Dagon shushed them as they headed back to the lift, a well-dressed elderly lady looking down her nose at Dagon’s vintage navy jacket and Bee’s ripped jeans.

“Here,” she handed over the note for Bee to read. “They’re busy, so Anthony told us to bugger off and paid us to do so.”

Bee snorted with disgust. “We drive all the way over here . . .”

“Hey, it’s like seventy pounds. We can go get a nice meal or do some pub crawling with that.”

“What are they doing anyway?”

“The Bentley was parked around the corner, so I’d say each other. I kind of want to go someplace with seafood. What do you say?”

“That one place I’ve wanted to try is only a couple of miles from here. Want to go there?”

“Sounds good.”

They got into the lift to head down to Dagon’s little green Škoda that she had carefully saved up to purchase, just like her flat. Bee looked upon it with envy, Dagon taking notice. She started it up and drove out of Anthony’s stuffy neighbourhood before taking the conversation back up again.

“You could get a new car. You only have to ask Anthony for the money.”

“Yeah, he holds the purse strings and I hate having to go to him with my hand out.”

“He doesn’t care, Bee, since he views the money as yours, too. You don’t have to jump through hoops to get it like he does to maintain the trust. Think of him as your banker. Sometimes I think part of the reason why he agreed to take the trust is that he has more of a sense of responsibility than he lets on. He wants you taken care of. It’s a big sibling thing. I took care of my sister until she decided to go study in France. She still calls once in a while when she’s not busy.”

“If you don’t bug me about it, I’ll ask him. Turn here.”

Dagon made the turn were Bee indicated.

“It’s a couple of blocks down. See the blue sign down there? That’s it.”

They pulled up, got themselves seated and ordered dinner. Bee spent the meal thoughtful, wondering if they should invest in a new car rather than keep pressing their luck with the dying bucket of bolts held together by hopes and dreams at this point. Anthony would hand over the money for it without question and without throwing it into their face later to turn it into some kind of weapon. He would simply transfer the funds — that would be it. He would never hold it against them that they asked for some.

And maybe that was the worst because it made them feel so selfish for even asking. They refused the trust for their own reasons, but here they were occasionally asking Anthony to hand some over, as if somehow the money was washed clean because it came from him rather than their parents.

“Stop overthinking it.”

“I can’t keep taking money from him. It’s trust money and there’s a reason I refused it.”

Dagon sat down her fork, a stern look on her face as she looked at Bee. “Not getting a new car is not an option right now, Bee. You need it before that one decides to fall apart on you in the middle of the M25. Your parents run that company fine from what you’ve told me, so I don’t see the problem. Get off your high horse about it or go get your degree so you can get a good job of your own.”

“Like you did?” Bee shot back, feeling the sting of Dagon’s words. 

“I knew what I was getting into with my degree. It’s one where it takes time to find the right job and I have the assistant manager position under you, so I can get by while I bide my time.”

“You’re so organized. You know what you want out of life. I don’t. I’m just floating here in this ocean not knowing what to do with myself.”

“Did you already decide against being a physical therapist?”

“No.”

“Is it something you’d put the time and effort into studying?”

“Yes.”

“There’s your direction. You’ve spent too long thinking you’re not smart enough to go to school and really, you need to stop your wallowing and do it.”

“Thanks for the uplifting talk. I feel so much better.”

Dagon had gone back to eating her fish. She fixed Bee with a stare that said sarcasm would not be accepted right now, her fork halfway to her mouth. “I’ve tried that, but now it’s time to kick your arse into gear. You’ve got into a routine of learned helplessness and it needs to be broken.”

Furious at being reprimanded, Bee stabbed some of her steamed vegetables with her fork and angrily continued her meal.

~*~*~

Ligur and Michael strolled along arm-in-arm in the park after their film date, taking the extra time together to talk. New relationship energy all but radiated off of them, but Ligur still had his concerns that nagged at him, courtesy of the brainwashing he had received thanks to Hastur. So far Michael seemed pleased that Ligur was pulling himself together. Now if he could only get Hastur to see there was better in this world than slinking around making money by illegal means. 

“It was an interesting ending. I didn’t expect he’d actually go through with the mission and I didn’t like that they left it hanging whether he lived or died,” Michael was saying.

“I know. It’s not what I expected at all. So, you liked the film?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I worry that we’re too different sometimes.”

Michael smiled at him. “We aren’t and I’ll go to sci-fi films with you any time you want. I grew up on that stuff.”

“Oh. Um, we’ll have to do that again next time there’s a good one out.” Ligur felt a trickled of warm pleasure seep into his soul, a feeling like he had never experienced before. “What would you say to some ice cream?”

“Okay.”

They headed towards the ice cream cart down around the bend of the path, continuing their conversation about the film and its plot twists. Ligur thoroughly enjoyed it. It had been quite a while since he had been able to have an intelligent conversation with someone like this. He tended to hang around less educated people who conversed more about their illegal activities. Funny how one person could make you rethink your life.

~*~*~

They had been at it on and off for hours and Aziraphale lay in the throes of his third orgasm of the evening as Anthony’s hand pumped up and down on his cock after their shower. Anthony had been on top this time around, coming a few minutes before Aziraphale was even ready, but it didn’t matter because he smoothly moved from being inside Aziraphale to using his hands before Aziraphale could even register that something had happened. Now that he was close, Anthony was down between his legs, sucking at his cock with his hand still working the lower part of his shaft, the wet feeling of his mouth and touch of his tongue against parts most sensitive quickly bringing everything to an erotic close. Aziraphale cried out, Anthony removing his hand to jam as much of his cock into his mouth as possible before he felt the warm liquid shoot down his throat, thankfully bypassing his taste buds. Swallowing for Anthony was a way to avoid a mess, nothing more. If guys were able to orgasm every time without producing that salty nastiness, he wouldn’t miss it one bit. 

He felt Aziraphale’s cock start to soften in his mouth and let go. Giving him some kisses on the soft belly he had worshipped earlier, he stood up to go use a little mouthwash and fetch some wipes from the bathroom. Aziraphale reached out to clasp around his elbow, letting Anthony’s arm trail away from him, his fingertips going from the pit of his elbow to his wrist as he left the bed. 

“I’m sorry. I feel awkward having to use mouthwash. It’s nothing personal. It’s just I don’t like the saltiness at all.”

“Understandable, my dear. Hurry back.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

it was less than five minutes later Anthony was back in the bed with him, nuzzling and cuddling like he always did after sex. Tomorrow was Saturday and surprisingly, they both had the day off. As soon as they woke up and got around in the morning, they would be heading off to pack. With any luck, Dagon and Bee read the note and would call to offer some help after Anthony threw money at them for dinner. It was only fair. 

“Goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

The next thing they both registered was the alarm on Anthony’s iPhone going off in the most annoying way possible. His arm left the warm bed covers to fumble its way over to the nightstand, feeling around for the damned thing so he could shut it off. Aziraphale groaned next to him.

“Want to sleep all day, Anthony.”

“Gotta pack sometime, but no hurry getting up. Go ahead and wake up slowly.”

Thus, started a half-hour’s worth of battling with the desire to stay within the warm cocoon of bed covers and entangled limbs and the feeling that they needed to be responsible enough to pack up what was left of Aziraphale’s stuff so it would all be ready for the movers to lug it downstairs and into the lorry which would be driven over here for unloading. So far, the desire to stay in bed was winning as Aziraphale kissed his way up Anthony’s chest to give him a proper good morning kiss on the lips. Sweet and sensual, it was the type of wakeup call both of them enjoyed, Aziraphale thrilled that there was someone out there who loved him and Anthony enjoying every aspect of being Aziraphale’s partner. He had finally developed a deep and meaningful relationship that looked like it might go the distance. It was a very heady feeling for both of them. 

Eventually, they got up to prepare for the day, reluctantly dressing and climbing in the Bentley to drive to the flat above the bookshop yet again. Aziraphale dawdled for a bit, sitting in the living room to pet Demeter while Anthony rang up Bee to see what they and Dagon were up to. Apparently, both of them were hungover.

“Do I want to know what’s up now?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you when we get up there,” they replied.

Hanging up, he got the keys. “Ready?”

Aziraphale gently put Demeter back on the floor, much to her dislike. 

“Yes. Let’s get this done so I have one less thing on my long list of things I have to do.”

Dagon’s Škoda was parked out front when they arrived, Bee and Dagon both waiting in it for them to arrive. They got out upon seeing the Bentley and Bee flipped Anthony a rude gesture on principle. He ignored it, being used to such sibling behaviour, walking up the stairs with Aziraphale to the flat’s front door. Aziraphale fished the keys out his messenger bag and unlocked the door while the other three waited in the crowded hallway, Bee and Anthony shoving each other until Dagon stepped between them.

“Knock it off, children. Don’t make me ground you.”

“Come on in,” called Aziraphale, hoping it was enough of a distraction. “Please don’t break anything.”

He grabbed Anthony by the arm and sat him down on the end of the couch, putting himself between him and Bee, who wisely took a seat in Aziraphale’s reading chair.

“So, what’s the plan?” Dagon asked.

“I will pack the books. The only other things that need to be packed are all the stuff left in the kitchen cabinets.”

They got to work, Dagon and Bee heading to the kitchen to pack up cooking equipment and what was left of Aziraphale’s dishes. Bee was able to bring things one-handed to the table where Dagon stood wrapping them up to place in sturdy cardboard boxes while they had a conversation. Aziraphale and Anthony packed books, as Aziraphale allowed Anthony to take them off the shelves, but he took the responsibility of placing them in the boxes. He was methodical about it and before long, Anthony was waiting on the couch, having crowded the coffee table with as many volumes as it could hold. He eyed Aziraphale’s collection. 

“Most of these should fit in the living room. The rest can go in a bedroom.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can move the art in the living room around. Not a big deal. Your collection’s important, too.”

“Oh, Anthony, you don’t need to that. Honestly, you don’t.”

Anthony shrugged. “We can talk about it later. This is going to be your home, too.”

Aziraphale smiled, about to answer when he was interrupted. 

“Because I need to know!” With those words, Bee stormed out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door. “I’m heading to your place, Anthony.”

Dagon was on their heels, bursting through the kitchen door with pleading apologies as Bee ignored her and left. Anthony held her back, shaking his head while Aziraphale looked on, not sure what to do as he wrung his hands.

“Don’t. Let them go. You know what kind of temper they can have.”

Dagon sighed, defeated. “They started up again about the rescue and I tried to say maybe some things are best forgotten rather than obsessed over and maybe they should send up a word of thanks and then move on.”

“Bee can be like that, you know. They’ll take the bus back to my place and cool down,” Anthony replied. “I know. That’s all they’ve thought about lately and it’s never going to be solved. Wait until tomorrow to talk to them again.”

~*~*~

Bee got off at the bus stop nearest Anthony’s place not knowing they were being watched from across the street as they marched down the pavement still seething about everyone’s decision to believe they ought to forget the whole thing. They owed their life to whoever unlocked the office door and put out the fire — something they remained acutely aware of on a daily basis. Stewing about it, they jammed their hands in their pockets and crossed the street to the side where Anthony’s building was. They had a key, so could get into the flat.

“We ought to do something,” said Aziraphale as he watched Bee disappear into the lobby.

“What we should do is erase the memory from the minds of all four of them,” replied Crowley, who leaned unnoticed by humans on the building they stood beside.

“Maybe we should,” sighed Aziraphale. “We keep getting called back here as if something is going to happen to threaten Anthony and Zira’s relationship.”

Funny how the well-being of the multi-verse rested on the shoulders of two young people newly dating. This was such a prime example of Chaos Theory. One relationship breaks up and as the Almighty warned them, it would lead to widespread disasters throughout the rest of the dimensions out there. Aziraphale only wished that “disasters” had been defined for them, but She worked in mysterious ways. Crowley patted his shoulder soothingly.

“Yeah. Well. We’re new at this and going on vague instructions. She could have given us more than dodgy explanations if she expected us to play cosmic pawns who save the world yet again. And if you say that it’s all ineffable, I’m going to leave you here.”

Aziraphale chuckled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, I’ve long grown beyond that way of thinking, my dear. Let’s sit on this tonight and decide tomorrow if we need to do a little fixing of the situation.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go home.”

And they did.


	16. Aziraphale and Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley introduce themselves to Bee, who is still obsessed with them. Their help will be needed later when Anthony fails to return home from his meeting with Gabriel.

Two days later Bee had gone back to Dagon’s flat and the whole guardian angel didn’t come up again but that didn’t mean Bee had forgotten it entirely. They had simply taken the idea underground, filling pages of notebooks with information and going to the shopping centre whenever they could to search over whatever areas were accessible. Three weeks later, Dagon was at a promising job interview as they poked around once again, attempting not to attract the attention of Hastur and Ligur, who were hanging around with a group of friends further up. Finding nothing, they collapsed on to a bench down by where Aziraphale and Anthony worked to rest before heading back home.

“Well, back again I see.” Hastur approached, a smug look on his face. “It’s been investigated, Bee. You’re not going to do better than the police.”

“Where’s Ligur? Did he leave you to fend for yourself while he went on a date with Michael?”

“He’s been wondering when you’re going to stop being a deadbeat and come back to the flat.”

“I’m not.”

Hastur raised an eyebrow, dark against his pasty face. “You’re not? Going to go live with that rich brother of yours?”

“No. The renters are leaving the house that was promised to me. I’m moving in. There’s a nice garden for my dog to run in so he’s not stuck in a flat all day.”

“Must be nice to be spoilt. Does Ligur know?”

“Yes. Talked to him last night. He’s fine with it because he can afford it with his new job. How are things on the employment end, Hastur?”

“Your mouth is going to get you into trouble,” he sneered with a threatening step forward.

“Piss off, Hastur,” said a third voice that sounded both familiar and not. “Go scuttle back under whatever rock you crawled out from.”

Bee could not see from their seated position the person standing behind Hastur’s tall frame, but he was apparently intimidating enough for Hastur mumbled something too low to be intelligible before slinking back up the hallway towards the food court. They were now facing a man wearing almost exclusively black, and they about rose from their bench in shock. A blond dressed in shades of beige waved nervously from behind him.

The redhead in black was wearing sunglasses inside but that did not at all hide how similar he looked to Bee’s brother. He swaggered to the bench to sit on it. The other man, who greatly resembled Aziraphale, sat beside him. Bee moved as far away from them as possible, not believing this now that they were in front of their own eyes.

“I’m not going to bite,” said the redhead but those pointed fangs of his said otherwise.

“You two look like my brother and his boyfriend. Who are you and how were you able to pull the crap that you did to save my life? It’s been driving me crazy since the fire,” Bee demanded. 

“No ‘thank you’?”

“Crowley!”

“And your last name is Crowley like my brother. This is getting weird.”

“No, my entire name is Crowley. We don’t have last names.” He looked to the blond. “I’m just Crowley, he’s just Aziraphale.”

“Pleased to meet you.” The blond’s smile was genuine and his eyes bluer than humanly possible.

“Yeah . . . hi . . .” Bee was still confused. “This is getting weird like I’m in the Twilight Zone or something.” 

They had watched old reruns of the American show on the telly back when they were a teenager and were now seriously thinking they were in an episode.

“What’s the Twilight Zone?” asked the blond.

“I’ll tell you later,” the redhead replied before turning back to Bee. “You’re not in the Twilight Zone. You’re in your perfectly normal universe that just happens to temporarily contain two extra people.”

“We’re not from around here,” the blond added with a chuckle.

“Do you believe in parallel universes? Because if not, I think you’d better start.”

“No.” Bee started to get up to leave.

“But it’s much easier to believe in guardian angels?” asked Crowley.

“I can assure you we’re not lying,” added Aziraphale. “You’re Beatrice Beel, better known as just Bee. Anthony Crowley is your brother and his boyfriend shares a name with me. Four weeks ago you were in a fire and in danger of dying. I’m the one who freed you, put you into a state of sleep and made sure help came. Crowley got us through the locked back door and put out the fire. We really couldn’t stick around, being that we’re not human.”

Bee blinked at the two of them. “You’re like serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why save me? What’s the deal here? I mean, this is just too weird. You come from another dimension to make sure I don’t burn up in a fire.”

“Your life was worth saving, my dear. And we were sent to protect you, your brother and . . . the other Aziraphale. You are important enough in the universe that you all need to be kept safe.”

“It’s a whole Chaos Theory thing. Don’t ask. All we know is your brother and his boyfriend need to stay together for the good of the multiverse. A breakup will cause a ripple that has catastrophic results. Maybe a few worlds see serious damage from weather phenomenon. Important people aren’t born. Civilisations end. Meteors strike. That kind of thing. Across all the parallel universes.”

“So the sun does shine out of my brother’s arse? Great.” Bee sniffed and eyed both of them. “Um, you’re just magical or something? Not really guardian angels. And are you like Anthony and Aziraphale’s doppelgängers?”

“Yes, I am an angel,” said Aziraphale. “And the version of your Aziraphale in my world.”

“Christ, I knew it . . . no wonder he’s so sweet and perfect.”

But Bee noticed he seemed uncomfortable talking about Bee’s Aziraphale. They thought it must be weird to know you have an alternate you running around in a different universe. And then it hit them. They did, too. For a moment, Bee had a very creepy feeling pass through them, causing them to shudder.

“Thinking about it, aren’t you?” Crowley asked with a grin.

“Huh?” Bee came back to the present, suddenly very angry. “No! No, I’m not! I mean, why did you even come here and reveal yourselves to me? I’m realising it’s worse than not knowing at all! Now I have to think about in some parallel universe my brother and his boyfriend are angels. Weird angels. I mean you don’t have wings or halos and how many angels dress completely in black or fashion-wise look like they’d be more at home in the 1850s?”

“Wings exist on the ethereal plane that connects all parts of the multi-verse. We can pull them out into our own home physical plane, but we’ve never tried here,” said Crowley. “Halos are the invention of human artists.” He reached behind himself, his hand disappearing for a moment while a look of pain crossed his face as his arm appeared to yank on something. Hand reappearing, he handed Bee a black feather about the size of their hand. “Here ya go. One of my coverts. Don’t ask me to do that again because it hurts to pluck feathers.”

They gazed at it then him before asking, “Is your world like mine?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Very similar. There are differences, like with gender, sexual orientation and race. You have civil rights and widespread acceptance no matter who you are, even if there are a few battles with individuals who disagree with that. The fight for equal rights is still being fought in our world. We’ve also been told there are worlds that are far different than what any of us are used to, but this is the only other world we’ve been to.” 

Bee just gave them both a blank stare. Aziraphale shot Crowley a concerned look. Did they tell Bee too much? 

“We could make you forget all this if you want. You’ll just remember you were looking for guardian angels then realised how silly that was and decided to stop,” suggested Crowley.

“Is there more to come?” Bee asked, their voice quiet.

“More?”

“Yes. If it’s so important they’re protected and you keep showing up here, what’s next?”

The two supernatural beings exchanged glances. Aziraphale put his hands in his lap and looked nervously down. Crowley ran a hand through his hair. Both looked anxious about Bee’s question. 

“We don’t know,” Crowley finally admitted.

“I don’t want to forget, then. I want to be kept in the loop.”

“That could be dangerous for a human,” said Aziraphale.

“Yeah? So what? I don’t much care because they are two of the three people I give a damn about in this world. If something happens, I want to help. You probably know where to find me, right?”

“Yes,” they both said.

“Good. We have a deal.” Bee stood up and walked away, acting braver than they felt right now. 

“Should have modified their memory,” muttered Crowley.

~*~*~

“Just put the boxes over there, thank you.” Aziraphale was directing the movers to pile the boxes from his old flat into the empty bedroom that already contained the furniture he wanted to keep, except for the bookshelves that went in the living room and the boxes of books to go on them. 

Anthony had a box of books open already and was peering in. “Aziraphale, are these books I can touch or is this part of your collection I should leave to you?” 

“Give me a title,” called back Aziraphale. 

“ _The Complete Works of Lord Byron_.”

“That’ll be fine for you to start with. Start on the bottom shelf and work your way up because that’s how I packed them. Thank you, dear.”

Aziraphale himself was unpacking a box of small appliances Anthony didn’t possess in the kitchen, situating them on the nearly bare counters. Anthony was one to live on takeaway when he didn’t have the time to sit down in a restaurant to eat. Now they had a toaster, a stand mixer, a slow cooker and a coffee grinder. Aziraphale was excited to start cooking here even if he could only make the basic stuff needed to keep your average uni student alive and reasonably functional. There was so much space and Anthony’s appliances were so modern compared to the ones at his former flat that had seen better days. He decided he was going to have to look up new recipes.

“This is going to be great,” he said.

“What’s that, angel?”

“Your kitchen. Now that I have my cookbooks, appliances and gadgets over here, I’m really going to start cooking.”

“You’re going to spoil me, aren’t you?”

“Why not? You spoil me.”

The last of the boxes were brought up, the movers paid and the boys were left with a pile of boxes to unpack or organise, depending on whether Aziraphale wanted to keep it out or not. Half the time he wanted to unpack a lot, other times he felt like just keeping it boxed up. Anthony’s place was rather minimal, but Aziraphale was a collector of stuff. He had been told that he could put out whatever he wanted, but he also wanted to respect Anthony’s space as well. It was going to take some thinking about it to reach a balance between their differing styles. 

“Welcome home.” 

He found himself caught up in an embrace with Anthony, warm and comforting and loving. This was home, right here wherever Anthony was. Wrapping his arms around in him in return, Aziraphale buried his head in Anthony’s hair, thinking how amazing it was to be loved like this. Sometimes he worried about whether it would last or if they were moving too fast. This was only his second serious relationship. Such worries never lasted very long, and he chalked it out to the insecurities that just normally plagued people once in a while. 

“Thank you, my dear.”

“So now what should we do?” Anthony had let go, sliding his hands down Aziraphale’s arms to grasp his hands. 

Aziraphale knew exactly what his boyfriend wanted, but ti was going to have to wait. “You seem to forget that you have lunch with Gabriel this afternoon.”

“Forget him. I want to stay here, cuddling with you.”

“Yes, but you tell me you’re starting to get somewhere with him, you said.”

“I know . . . he’s actually talking about how much he hates Macabre. He’s involved somehow. I feel it. I just . . .” Anthony gestured vaguely like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I just want the answers immediately instead of having to schmooze them out of him.” 

“Want me to call you about an hour in? You can excuse yourself saying it was an emergency.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Aziraphale thought for a moment, before sitting down at the sleek kitchen table of dark wood. Anthony sat next to him. 

“Wear a nice suit.”

“Why’s that?”

“Say you have some business to attend to. Does Gabriel know you’re not involved in with your family’s business?”

“Yeah, more or less. But he does know I’m looking for an internship.”

“There’s another out.”

“You are a genius, you know that?”

“Anything to help you, my dear. Now, I’d probably better get back to work instead of procrastinating. I don’t want to leave all these boxes all over for us to trip over.”

Anthony nodded and watched him go, enjoying the nice view of his arse. He felt a little lecherous about it, but what was the point of having a boyfriend if you couldn’t ogle him once in a while? Getting up, he got his own arse to back to the bookshelf he had been working on and resumed shelving the books as instructed. It seemed strange but welcome to have bookshelves around, a reminder that Aziraphale was here to stay. Anthony felt a silly little warm fuzzy feeling at that thought that made him blush. Luckily he was facing the bookshelf so Aziraphale didn’t catch a glimpse.

A half-hour later, the bookshelf was full and Anthony was dragging himself towards the bedroom to get dressed for his lunch with Gabriel. Changing out of the dusty grey shirt and black skinny jeans he was currently wearing, he threw on a muted red henley and a nicer pair of trousers. That should do, he thought as he brushed his hair back into place and made sure his hands and face weren’t covered in stray bits of packing material or ink. Sighing he looked at his own reflection while he tried to calm himself. He knew he had to be careful. If he acted as impatient as he felt, he was going to lose ground, or lose Gabriel’s interest altogether. Ready, but not very willing, he headed back out to the living room.

“You look handsome,” commented Aziraphale as he looked up from the bookshelf he was filling. “I’m awfully glad Gabriel appears to have no interest in men. I don’t think I would tolerate him flirting with you.”

“Don’t worry. Neither would I. The man’s nearly intolerable the way it is. Wish me luck?”

Aziraphale gave him a long goodbye kiss. “Good luck, my love. I’ll be here when you get back. Want me to call?”

“I’ll text you if I do. Old Gabe’s on his phone constantly. He won’t notice me sending one little text.”

“All right. I will keep my phone near me.”

“See you later.”

Anthony headed out the door and down to the Bentley, wishing now it had a nice flat tyre or wouldn’t start. But the tyres were still full of air and the car started smoothly as it always did. Putting it into gear, he headed for the restaurant where they planned on meeting. 

~*~*~

Anthony stared at his coffee wishing now he had at least ordered something to go in it as he was heartily tired of listening to Gabriel drone on and on and on about having made contact with Anthony’s father, business, suits and everything else in his life, all of which was dull, boring and centred around making as much money as possible. No spouse, no significant other, few true friendships — if any at all. The man was hyper-focused on his career and “making it”. No wonder nobody liked Americans any more. It seemed quite a few of them were loud, opinionated, the most outspoken ones were either not smart or easily duped into believing the stupidest conspiracy theories, and many were downright annoying. He’d give anything to go home right now.

Gabriel’s phone buzzed, and he paused in his mostly one-sided conversation to check his texts. Anthony took the opportunity to text Aziraphale, asking him to call in about ten minutes, thanking his wonderful boyfriend for getting him out of this. He slid his phone back in his pocket when he was done and looked up at Gabe, who was still texting and looking worried about it. He waited patiently while the man finished up. At least lunch was mostly over and if Aziraphale got his text and called soon, he wouldn’t have to suffer through dessert or empty talk after the meal at a table the wait staff couldn’t wait to get bussed and ready for the next diners. 

“Excuse me a moment,” said Gabriel. 

He got up and headed to the back of the restaurant, his phone left sitting by his plate where it was tempting Anthony to pick it up and look at the texts that were obviously bothering him. Instead, he pulled his own device out to play on while he waited. Maybe he’d just excuse himself when Gabriel returned. Gabriel was seated closest to the back of the restaurant, so he wouldn’t see Anthony’s screen when he returned. For all Gabriel knew, he could be texting.

“Can I take your plates?”

The voice startled Anthony, but he nodded at the server who had slipped up quietly to the table. “Yes, thank you.”

He grabbed Anthony’s then headed around the table to grab Gabriel’s, knocking his phone on the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Have the gentleman let me know if there’s a problem with his phone. I’ll do what I can to make it right.” 

The phone was replaced and the server moved on. Anthony didn’t think anymore of it. The floor was covered in the plushest carpet he had ever seen in a restaurant. This place must have prided itself on never spilling a drop of food in the dining room, or they were barking mad to expect such pile would stay spotless. Either way, it didn’t matter as long as it cushioned Gabriel’s device enough it wasn’t damaged. It shouldn’t have been. Smartphones were tougher than they used to be.

Gabriel returned, slipping back in his chair with a smarmy smile that Anthony these days pegged for fake. He smiled back.

“I’m so sorry about that. Anyway, where were we?”

“I’m afraid I have to go. My mother needs to get to the airport and the taxi she ordered to take her was unfortunately in an accident. They can’t send another for some time, so it’s up to me.” Anthony shrugged in what he hoped was an apologetic manner. “Since it’s your turn to pay, I’m going to just gracefully step out. Thank you so much for the meal and I’m glad my father got in contact with you.”

His phone rang, but Gabriel didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at his own, noticing that it was screen-up now after the server returned it to the table instead of screen-down like it was when he left the table. His dark blue eyes bored into Anthony as he answered his phone.

“Mum, hi. Yes, I got your text and I’m on my way. Give me ten minutes?”

The redhead was waving jauntily as he headed out the door. Gabriel threw slid enough cash to cover their meal on to the tray containing the bill and went after Anthony. He found him beside his flashy black Bentley shoving his phone in his pocket as he fished out his keys. The larger man slammed the driver’s door Anthony had just opened shut again after checking to make sure the parking lot was empty. Anthony turned, surprised to see the anger on Gabriel’s face.

“What did you see?”

“Wh . . . wh . . . what do you mean?” Anthony was confused.

“There is no mother needing a ride, is there? You snuck a look at my texts. My phone was screen-up when I came back. It was face-down when I left.”

“The server knocked it on the floor while bussing the table. That’s all. What are you on about?” 

Anthony was feeling real fear now. Gabriel was up in his face, leaning hard enough on the Bentley’s door that he couldn’t easily open it and escape this situation. He tried to control his breathing as he felt himself start to hyperventilate with panic. He was nose to nose with his angry lunch partner over something he knew nothing about. 

“A likely story, Anthony. Think you could discreetly gather information to tell the cops? It’s my word against yours, kid. Don’t forget that. Will daddy be able to heal a ruined reputation if you try anything?” He ran a hand through his hair, raking across the dark locks that now stuck out at wild angles. “I . . . I can’t get into trouble over this. I’ll lose everything . . .”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anthony insisted.

“The hell you don’t,” snarled Gabriel and things became very serious for Anthony.

~*~*~

Anthony should have been home by now, Aziraphale thought as he looked at his antique wall clock they had decided to hang in the living room, the contrast between the modern flat and its vintage look not as jarring as one might think. It was from 1910 and looked more timeless than one would give clocks of that era. Aziraphale had watched the time pass slowly on it this afternoon and was now outright worried since Anthony had told him he’d be there soon. True, he had spoken to him like he was having a conversation with his mother, but the restaurant wasn’t more than ten to fifteen minutes away so it was a signal Anthony was getting ready to leave at that moment.

It had been over an hour now.

Aziraphale decided to call Bee. 

“ _What’s up_?” they asked when they answered. 

“It’s Anthony. He said he was on his way home, but that was over an hour ago and the restaurant’s only a ten-minute drive from here, and he isn’t answering his phone. It rings several times then goes to voicemail. This isn’t like him.”

“ _No. It isn’t. I’ll borrow Dagon’s car and come over_.”

Bee arrived, and they waited until two hours had passed, Aziraphale watching the clock tick off each painful minute while Bee paced the living room. Finally, he stood up, getting their attention.

“We need to go at least retrace his route,” said Bee. “Maybe he had car trouble and forgot his phone at the restaurant or something.”

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “Sounds good.”

What could they do? It was too soon to call the police; he wouldn’t be considered a missing person yet. Their only option was to retrace, watch and wait. Aziraphale drew his camel hair coat over his cardigan jumper and waited for Bee to get their leather jacket on before they headed to the car. Aziraphale navigated while Bee drove, both of them looking out their windows for signs of Anthony or the Bentley. They found nothing until they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.

“There’s the Bentley!” called Aziraphale.

Bee pulled in beside it, the little Skoda completely outclassed by the other vehicle. Aziraphale was out of the passenger’s seat like a shot, running over to the Bentley and bending down with a cry. He was holding Anthony’s phone when he stood up. Bee felt their heart leap into their throat and ran to join him. 

“Oh my God. It’s happened . . . The big event they were talking about.”

“Who?”

“The guardian angels. Look, I can’t explain. We need to head back to Dagon’s and wait for them. It’s too soon to call the police since there are no signs of violence.”

“Bee, there are no guardian angels.”

“Can you just trust me for once?” Their voice reached high pitches in their frustration. “Please? You can call the police and think I’m a total nutter if they don’t appear within the hour, okay?”

“All right,” said Aziraphale through the tears he was shedding. “One hour then I’m going to the police.”

~*~*~

They waited — Aziraphale, Bee and Dagon — in the small flat, Bee staring off out the window, Aziraphale silently crying and Dagon not sure what to do with herself except sit on the couch attempting to comfort Aziraphale while Bee prattled on about angels from a parallel world who were the doppelgängers of Anthony and Aziraphale. They were convinced these angels were real and that concerned Dagon almost as much as Anthony’s disappearance. 

“Let’s call the police,” she said, finally. “We waited, there are no guardian angels and the longer we let this drag on, the worse it’ll be for Anthony.”

“Five more minutes?” pleaded Bee, turning to look at her.

Dagon sat with an arm around Aziraphale who was dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. She looked at him, then at Bee. “No. This is mad, pure and simple. They aren’t real.”

“But . . .”

“Will you just look at Aziraphale for a moment? Just look at how afraid he is right now. This is his boyfriend, your brother and my friend. We can’t sit around and do nothing!” Dagon pulled out her phone. “I’ve had enough. We’ve coddled you too much lately, Bee, and it’s time it stopped. Shit just got serious.”

She was in mid-dial when she was distracted by the soft blue light coming off the far wall. Beside her, Aziraphale stood up as Bee grinned madly at the sight of the portal opening to allow two human-shaped beings to step into Dagon’s living room while Cerberus barked at them. Bee went over to greet them as the portal faded away taking the light with it. 

“Oh my God . . .” muttered Dagon, staring at the two men suddenly standing before them — the one in black and one in beige, looking like timeless versions of her friends.

“I told you,” said Bee before turning to them. “You know?” they asked the two.

Angel Aziraphale shrugged. “We have a vague idea, but our enchanted mirror doesn’t always give all the details.” He showed them the item before tucking it into an inside jacket pocket.

Across the room, young Aziraphale chose that moment to hit the floor in a dead faint, Dagon only noticing in time to catch his head before he cracked it on the coffee table. Crowley watched him dispassionately before letting out a snort.

“I wouldn’t expect any less out of him. Let’s revive him and get these awkward introductions over with.”

Angel Aziraphale smiled mournfully over such auspicious beginnings with the humans as he revived his other self.


	17. The Search is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee, Aziraphale and Dagon plan to get Anthony back with the help of two supernatural beings.

Angel Aziraphale had young Aziraphale revived and seated on the couch in less of a panic now while Dagon continued to stare, turning her gaze from Crowley to angel Aziraphale and back again. Bee quietly filled Crowley in on what was going on as if conversing with supernatural beings was an everyday occurrence. He nodded grimly once in a while and asked questions at other moments. Soon, his partner had joined him, reaching out to grasp his hand and listen in the conversation. 

“How is he?” Bee asked.

“Still in a bit of shock thanks to all this, but he told me what he knew. I do not think we have much to go on,” said angel Aziraphale. “Oh, I told the other two to call me A.Z. Less confusion that way.”

“Gabriel’s your most likely suspect. Does anyone have an address on him or anything?” asked Crowley.

“You can’t just use your angelic powers and find him?” asked Bee.

“No, we’re not infallible,” replied Crowley. 

“I have Anthony’s phone. It has Gabriel’s number in it.” Young Aziraphale’s voice was tired and scared. 

He looked from angel Aziraphale to Crowley, pleading silently with them to do something. The angel joined him on the couch again, giving him a soothing pat on the knee.

“Yeah, but we can’t call him. It’ll tip him off,” said Dagon from the chair where she sat.

Crowley pulled a phone of his own from his jacket pocket. “Ah, but he can’t identify this number if our two worlds have a similar phone number sequence going. And I can trace him through the phone lines.” He grinned like a maniac, reaching out to take Anthony’s phone from young Aziraphale and transfer Gabriel’s number to his. “Ah, yes. Same system. Nice. Okay, here it goes.”

“What are you going to do?” asked angel Aziraphale. “Not that thing you used to trap Hastur in voicemail, are you?”

“Why not? I’ll find out where Gabriel is.”

“Absolutely not! This is not an Archangel we’re talking about. He’s human, and you’re just going to end up frightening him with your demonic shenanigans. It’s not a good idea at all. We have to think of young Anthony’s safety.”

Bee gaped at them. “Demonic? I thought you were angels!”

“I’m an angel. He’s not.”

“There’s no such thing as a guardian demon! What is going on?” Bee demanded.

“I got kicked out of Hell. He no longer works for Heaven, but the Almighty sent us on this mission because She can trust us. Why did you think my wing feathers were black?”

“I don’t know! Maybe because you’re not from around here! How do I know what angels and demons look like in your world?”

“Free agent supernatural beings. Great,” muttered Dagon, but she doubted anyone hear her over the bickering. She spoke up louder. “Ligur’s occasionally done errands for him and Sandy. Maybe he has some idea where to find him.

“He has?” asked Bee.

“Yes, he has. Anything for a quick buck. I’ve watched them make deals outside of Macabre.”

Bee stood up. “I’m calling him.” They dialled Ligur’s number to have it go to voicemail, but Bee was not deterred. They looked at the other four in the room, steel in their eyes as they spoke. “He’s probably at work. It’s time to split up and start gathering clues. Sandy has some office somewhere he normally works out of. Gabriel’s met him there because I’ve heard him talk about it. We need to head to the restaurant to see if we can find out. Hastur might be hanging around. He always has information if you’re willing to pay him. I can go to my place and snoop through stuff because maybe Ligur’s left something around telling where he works.” They turned to angel Aziraphale. “A.Z., can you bless my car or something? It’s a piece of shit that barely runs, but we need it.”

“Of course,” he replied, ignoring the blue language he didn’t approve of. He made a complicated hand gesture over Bee then nodded. “Done. The first car you touch will run perfectly. Don’t touch any vehicle before your own.”

“Thanks.”

“It sounds like I should head to the shopping centre,” said Crowley. “I’ve tangled with Hastur several times, so he won’t try any crap with me. Dagon, you’re with me. Angel, you should go with Bee. Umm . . . human Aziraphale . . .”

“I’m staying here with him,” said angel Aziraphale. “He needs a moment to calm down then we will join you.”

Crowley shrugged, knowing better than to argue. “All right. Let’s go. Give me your keys, Dagon. I’m driving.”

“The hell you are.”

“Are you seriously going to argue with a demon?”

She handed them over and the door shut behind all of them, the room now suddenly quiet in their wake. 

“You’re all out of sorts, aren’t you?” angel Aziraphale asked his human counterpart.

“You might say that.” He looked up at the angel with red-rimmed eyes. “And I should be because Bee’s known him their own life and is getting involved and mobilising the troops, so to speak. I’m sitting here trying to process everything that’s going on.”

“Bee’s known about us for a long time. They were prepared when we finally decided to reveal ourselves to them, and they asked us to keep them involved if something big happened.” Angel Aziraphale conjured up a box of tissues and offered it to young Aziraphale who took it. “I believe it’s a little more jarring when it’s your beloved who’s disappeared, you’re suddenly introduced to supernatural beings from another universe and said supernatural beings resemble you and him. Well, we are you and him, actually.”

“Not just look-alikes?”

“It’s complicated. I think I describe it best by saying there’s a collective Aziraphale that stretches across the whole of the multi-verse, and he is made up of many unique individuals who are somewhat connected. We can feel that connection when we step into each other’s territories. I feel how frightened you are right now. And overwhelmed. But let’s see if we can . . . what’s that phrase? Pull it together so we can get out there to help Anthony.”

“You’re an angel. A real honest-to-goodness angel. And I’m just me.”

“But being you isn’t bad. You have many good qualities, nor does one need to be immortal or have magical ability to make their mark on the world and be worthwhile. You can take my word for that. I’ve been around long enough to know.”

“Angel of the Eastern Gate. You were in Eden, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And your Anthony? How does an angel end up meeting a demon and falling in love with him?”

Angel Aziraphale laughed. “Crowley? He was in Eden, too, and we ended up talking after the humans were exiled. He seemed so surprised that getting Eve to eat that apple would end up earning them such a serious punishment. He grew on me from that moment, you might say.”

“Oh, dear,” young Aziraphale smiled through his tears. “Anthony helped me get a gate closed that was stuck open. We went out for coffee and two months later I’m so in love with him I’d do anything to keep him safe and happy. He deserves it.”

“There. See? You can be brave. You have it in you. Shall we?” Aziraphale held out a hand to him. “We’ll have to transport, but it’s instantaneous. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine as long as you don’t think about it. I believe we’ll go help Bee. I don’t like the idea of leaving any one of you unprotected right now. Have you been to Bee’s domicile?”

“Yes.”

“Think of it now. I can latch on to that thought and take us there.”

Young Aziraphale took the other Aziraphale’s hand and the two disappeared.

~*~*~

Michael approached them as soon as they entered Cheesecake Works, eyeing Crowley suspiciously before shaking her head and returning to normal. With a flick of his hand, he had made the fact that he resembled Anthony slide right off her mind as such distractions right now would only waste time. She looked hard at Dagon, knowing who she was, but rarely interacting with her.

“You’re friends with Anthony. Where is he? He’s late for his shift and Sandy isn’t concerned at all, which is weird. Said he’s probably sick and forgot to call in.”

“He’s gone,” replied Dagon. “Went to lunch with an acquaintance and never returned. Bee and Aziraphale found his phone beside his abandoned car in the restaurant parking lot.”

Michael looked shocked. “Oh, my god . . . Have you called the police?”

“They said to wait twenty-four hours before filing a report because there was no sign of violence.” It was a bit of a lie. Dagon hadn’t finished dialling the police when Aziraphale and Crowley showed up, shocking her out of finishing the call. But why bother involving them now when they had an angel and a demon on their side? “You’re dating Ligur and I bet he still has connections, even if he isn’t using them any more. Has he said anything to you?”

Crowley ominously leaned in closer, making Michael nervous. “Umm . . . only that Hastur offered him a position at Sandy’s warehouse. He and his brother are keeping snakes there to breed and housing some birds temporarily for a friend of theirs.”

“Sandy? Short for Sandalphon?” asked Crowley succinctly.

“Yes. Robert Sandalphon. Why?”

“None of your concern. We’ve got a young man to find.” He stalked off, Dagon in tow. “Hastur has to be around here somewhere.”

“How’d you know Sandy’s full last name?” 

Dagon was nearly running to keep up with his long strides. They were out in the hall now, Crowley searching left and right for any sign of Hastur in the sparse crowds that populated it during a weekday afternoon. So far he found nothing.

“Archangel Sandalphon. One of Archangel Gabriel’s cronies and the one most prone to physical violence. I have a feeling this version isn’t any better.”

“I thought angels were supposed to be the good guys.”

“No, angels are righteous. That has absolutely nothing to do with being the good guy, but we don’t have time for a lesson on the fallacy of believing the Great Plan is the correct one. C’mon.” He moved up further up the shopper centre, determined to hunt Hastur down. “Where are you, you bastard?”

“What’s Hastur in your world?”

“A Duke of Hell. So is Ligur. You’re the Undermaster of the Seventh Circle and Lord of the Files.”

“Lord of the Files . . . okay. Do kindred spirits run together in different worlds?”

“Do you always ask this many questions?” He wasn’t about to tell her she was right, but he didn’t need to as his prey came into view. Crowley all but hissed at him. “Hastur! Get back here!”

Crowley was off at a speed that Dagon could not hope to keep up with and Hastur could not hope to escape. The demon had him up against the wall, his hands tightly fisted in his dirty mac as he slammed him against it, his face uncomfortably close to Hastur’s. The man was all but whining at Crowley.

“What do you want from me?”

“Sandalphon’s got some snake breeding facility somewhere, doesn’t he?” 

“Why are you harassing me? I don’t know anything!”

“Oh, I believe you do and you’d better tell me, or I will pull the information out of your skull. That would be most unpleasant for you. Definitely don’t want to go that route. It’s easier just to give me the address.”

Crowley’s eyes began to glow red behind his sunglasses and Hastur whimpered in fear. 

“It’s over on Brighton Street between Ermin Court and North Waybridge Row. A big concrete building with an orange door, you can’t miss it!”

“I don’t even know those street names. Dammit, this is a different London and everything is a mess here. Well, got to do this. If I wasn’t a demon, I’d be sorry.”

He pulled the full information from Hastur’s mind, leaving him to slide senseless down the wall to the floor where he spent a few minutes recovering. Crowley cursed. Everything here was different. They didn’t have those streets in his London, nor was there a borough of Derby and Wells. He turned abruptly towards Dagon, who shrank back afraid after what she witnessed. Crowley sighed in exasperation.

“He deserved it. I don’t go in for harming innocent humans. Where is this place?” He gave her the address.

Dagon swallowed down her fear, remembering this was a demon who was associated with an angel. Hopefully, Crowley was a good demon rather than Aziraphale being a bad angel. “Over in the east along the river. It’s a big manufacturing area. They make switches for cars over there. I think Opals or Fords. I don’t really remember.” She tended to babble when she was nervous. “And other things, but I don’t know what else they make. Lots of warehouses, too.”

“Not important. Just get me over there. Sounds like the optimal place to hide someone.”

~*~*~

Young Aziraphale clung to the arm of the angel he shared an unusual name with, feeling just a bit nauseous at moving from instantly from one locale to another. Angel Aziraphale steadied him then let go as soon as he healed away the young man’s vertigo and nausea. 

“I apologise. It is a bit rough for those not used to it.”

“Bee?” young Aziraphale called out. “Are you here?”

“Yeah, living room.” 

They appeared in the doorway; the two who just popped in, quite literally, were standing inside the front door. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“Don’t ask,” replied their friend.

Bee looked at the other Aziraphale who simply said, “Angelic powers. What are you doing?”

They held up the papers in their hand. “Trying to find out where Ligur works and see if he has information. Anything that we could use to track down Gabriel.”

“It’s really not appropriate to snoop. Ligur does expect privacy in his own home.”

“Yeah? My brother expects he won’t be kidnapped by money-hungry narcissists,” Bee snapped back. 

They stormed off to the living room to keep up the search. Young Aziraphale shrugged an apology then followed. Angel Aziraphale sighed and followed along behind. He would not aid in their search, but he would not hinder it, either. He sat pondering other options but came up empty.

~*~*~

Gabriel stood in Sandy’s office panicked, pacing as he spoke with his friend. “I . . . I just did it . . . I didn’t know what else to do. He read the texts. He knows what we’re doing.”

“So, instead of bribing him or something, you knock him out and stick him in the boot?” demanded Sandy, his hands clutching at the sides of his desk. He was an accessory now, no getting around it. He sure as hell couldn’t call the police himself. Gabriel might very well roll over on him. “What are we supposed to do with him?”

Gabriel combed a hand through his dark hair, thinking a moment. “Ransom him. It’s the logical thing to do. His parents are rich. It’s something they might expect to happen.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I did with bribing him, but you panicked and ruined that one before I could do a bloody thing about it! Do you know he looked at your phone for sure?”

“I put my phone on the table face-down then left. When I came back, it was face-up.”

“And what did the Crowley boy say?”

“That a waiter knocked it on the floor and put it back.”

“Did you ask the waiter? That would have been the logical next step rather than abduct someone! You could have said you thought you found a scratch on your screen or something. Don’t you have an imagination?” Sandy demanded, pounding his desk. “Now you have me caught up in this.”

“What am I going to do with him?”

“It’s almost dark. We’re going to wait until then you’ll take him to the facility. There’s that office with a bathroom in it. My brother stores shit in there, including all his hiking gear, so there’s a camp cot. The kid can stay in there, but you’ll have to bring him food.”

“Does the door lock?” 

Sandy rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Jesus Christ, Gabe. I wouldn’t suggest it if it didn’t. He installed a lock on the door that opens from the outside. The kid won’t be able to leave.”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, this isn’t going to work. I hit him on the back of the head, but he’s going to know. I confronted him.”

Sandy snorted. “What other choice do we have now that you’ve screwed this all up. Take Sam with you. He can get the kid out of the boot and into the building. He’s trustworthy enough to handle the situation. Been on my payroll for over ten years. And start thinking about a ransom demand.”

“You’re beginning to sound like you’re mafia or something.”

“No. I’ve just learned a thing or two. I’ll teach you yet.”

~*~*~

Crowley and Dagon stood before the bright orange door of the building Hastur sent them to in a rough area that looked to contain only industrial buildings, some decorated with graffiti, others sporting broken windows. Dagon shuddered and stood closer to the demon. At least nothing would bother her with him around. The place was downright unfriendly-looking, and she expected to hear the sounds of gunfire as gangs broke out of the shadows to fight each other like in some kind of action film where the villain’s hideout is in the worse part of the city. 

“How are we getting in?”

He gave her a withering look she could see right through his sunglasses. Why did he even wear them? Did demons have strange eyes or something? While she was wondering that, he was turning the knob and striding in like he owned the place.

“It’s clear. There’s nobody in there.”

She stepped in, shutting the door behind her. The place was empty on one side and filled with cages on the other — some glass enclosures holding snakes, some birdcages housing small finches, which was strange by itself. What was stranger was that every snake in the place was alert and attuned to Crowley. Every scaled head looked his direction. Dagon noticed and approached him.

“They’re all watching you. What’s going on?”

“They know what I am.” The answer was casual, and he continued poking around checking in the closed office, behind stacks of boxes, anywhere someone could potentially be tied up and stashed away but coming up empty-handed.

“What . . . are you?” Dagon asked. That comment sounded like he was more than just a demon.

“The First.”

That answer didn’t help, but he didn’t seem inclined to explain further. Dagon did some searching of her own, avoiding the creepy snakes; it was too weird watching their little heads follow Crowley’s every movement. 

“I don’t think he’s here which means you need to go,” Crowley said finally.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t want to be here if anyone shows up, that’s why!”

“But you’re here,” said Dagon lamely.

“I can only do so much. I can’t potentially rescue two people from bad situations at the same time. Even my powers have their limits. Now go. This is a good place to bring someone you want to keep hidden. I’ll keep an eye on it. You get back to the others.”

“But . . .”

“Go!”

That tone did not allow for arguments. Crowley tossed her the car keys and Dagon slipped out the door. Starting her car, she left for friendlier parts of the city. Meanwhile, Crowley got to work.

“All right . . .” Searching the snake enclosures up and down, he found one that was empty and miracled it full of bedding, branches and a water bowl. Hoping that feeding day wasn’t any time soon, he changed form and transported himself behind its glass, appearing like any other snake in the facility. “Fuck, I hate this. I’m not an animal.”

Resigning himself to his disguise, he curled up in a ball and waited, his head pointed towards the door. The other snakes calmed down upon a command from him. Anthony would be brought here, he could feel it. This place was too perfect of a hiding spot for the humans not to use. Regretting he couldn’t keep himself entertained on his phone, Crowley looked out and thought of how incredibly weird his life had become lately. That was saying something coming from a demon with a snake shape and enough monumental moments to his credit to fill several volumes of history books. 

He didn’t have to wait long before he heard movement coming from the front of the building. 


	18. Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley shows his worth by protecting Anthony.

Dagon reported back to Bee and the two Aziraphales, then drove them back to Anthony and Aziraphale’s place to wait it out after Dagon told them Crowley had the place staked out but had sent her away. Bee had followed in her own rusting corpse of a car. Right now Dagon was in the kitchen with the angel helping him get tea ready while the other two wait anxiously in the living room, Bee handling the whole situation in a more stoic manner than young Aziraphale. They were sitting next to him on the couch, comforting him the best they could. Dagon marvelled at how differently two people could handle a situation as she placed tea bags in mugs. She’d rather have had a good beer right now, but not only did it seem weird to be drinking around an angel, now was not the best time to be putting alcoholic beverages in her system. Little did she know the prim and proper angel in the kitchen with her could drink her under the table several times over. 

“A.Z., can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly, my dear.”

“The snakes being kept at that warehouse paid attention to Crowley. I mean, their little snakey heads were turning to watch his every move and it was just creepy. I asked him why and all he would say was that he was the first.” Dagon finished with the tea bags and put the box of tea back in its cabinet. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly that,” replied Aziraphale with a smile. “Crowley is one hundred per cent demon, but he has a rather special relationship with snakes due to him being the Serpent. Oh! There’s the kettle. Excuse me.”

“Serpent? We’re not talking Biblical stuff here are we?” Dagon pushed mugs closer so Aziraphale could pour water in them and placed the ones ready to steep off to the side. “Like the snake in the Garden of Eden?”

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about. There. That’ll take about four minutes to steep, and we can take them on out.”

Dagon stared at him like he was a madman. Here he was talking about characters out of the story of Eden being not only real but running around all these years later in a completely casual manner as he poured hot water into tea mugs. Shaking her head in disbelief, she went over to sink into a kitchen chair where she leaned on the table, her head in her hands. Aziraphale watched her go, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. He finished with the kettle, tugged down his waistcoat and approached the table.

“So, your friend is the one who tempted Eve?”

“Partner, and yes. I guarded the Eastern Gate of Eden. That’s how we met.”

“And I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder. I can’t think about this right now. We’re sitting around drinking tea when Anthony could be in serious trouble.”

“Anthony will be fine. Crowley told me he’s waiting at the warehouse because he’s certain that is where they will take him. We cannot all be over there. Let’s talk about this more when we join the other two.”

Soon they were all seated in the living room on the leather furniture mugs of tea in front of them while angel Aziraphale spoke to them about what he knew. Young Aziraphale looked miserably into his mug. Dagon tried to keep her mind on the subject at hand even though it desperately wanted to allow all the information it has processed in the last few hours to slide right off of it to never be remembered again. Bee was the one holding it together as they listened attentively to the angel’s speech, but inside they were hurting just as much as young Aziraphale. 

“Crowley believes that they will take Anthony to that warehouse because it is the most logical place to hide someone. I believe I need to locate Sandalphon and have a talk with him about his involvement in all this. Apparently, he’s being rather cavalier about Anthony not showing up to work.” He looked towards Dagon, who nodded. “I think I’ll . . .”

“How are you doing that?” Bee blurted out suddenly.

“Doing what?” angel Aziraphale asked, confused.

“Getting information from Crowley? I have yet to see you pick up a phone or anything.”

“We miracled a mental connection between us, so we can communicate. It would be difficult for him to use any sort of telephonic device in snake form.”

“Snake form?” asked Bee, narrowing their blue eyes at him.

“We can take any shape we wish, but a snake is easiest for him and coincidentally fits right into the situation nicely.” Aziraphale paused, raising a finger and causing all the humans to hold their questions on their tongues. “He’s talking to me . . .”

“What’s he saying?” burst out young Aziraphale.

“Someone has shown up. He’ll get back to us as soon as he can.”

~*~*~

A few hours earlier, Anthony turned away from Gabriel to unlock the Bentley, thinking that he had calmed down when he started to walk away. It was a serious miscalculation on his part that nearly cost him everything. Gabriel turned back towards him, this time with a sizable rock from the small rock garden in the centre of the restaurant’s car park to bash against the back of Anthony’s head. He went down in more pain than he had ever experienced before, the blow scrambling his ability to comprehend what was going on. He writhed on the pavement, groaning until Gabriel picked him up and carried him off to place him somewhere in total darkness.

Anthony didn’t remember much beyond that for quite some time. When his brain finally sputtered to life again, he found himself in complete darkness with his ears ringing and a feeling of confusion overshadowing his thoughts. He felt the rough carpet of the boot’s floor beneath him, but it didn’t register what it was. All he could feel besides that hard rough surface he lay on was the coldness that seeped in from outside. He groaned, falling back unconscious only to wake up shivering violently while he was bumped around as the car he was in drove along less than perfect streets. It was upon hearing the engine that he realised he was being transported and the only logical explanation was that he was in the boot of a car. 

Trapped.

He reached out to scratch feebly at whatever portion of the boot was in front of him before feeling too weak to continue. His head spun. Something salty-tasting was leaking from his nose and mouth, and the back of his head throbbed. 

What had happened? And more importantly, what was going to occur now?

~*~*~

Sandy hung up, putting his phone down on his desk. His hard eyes bored into Gabriel’s until the younger man swallowed and looked down. It was only then that he spoke.

“Sam said he’d help you out, but he’s closer to the warehouse than here, so he’ll just meet you there. He drives a late model Opal. Green, I think. Do not take that kid out of the boot unless you are sure there is nobody around.”

“Right.”

Gabriel turned to leave.

“Do not mess this up. We’re in a delicate situation here as it is.”

“I’m not going to. At least give me a little credit here.”

Sandy found he had a hard time doing that given how badly Gabriel had messed this all up in the first place. He just hoped now the Crowley boy knew nothing about who kidnapped him.

~*~*~

Hastur didn’t like the look of the new black snake. It made him feel uncomfortable as he fed the birds, staring at him through sinister-looking yellow eyes while it followed his movements all over the birds’ area of the warehouse. The thing even yawned at him showing off a nasty pair of fangs, an action that Hastur swore was some kind of threat. While he was staring at it wondering if it was smart enough to escape that cage and come to attack him, it reared up its giant body, hooding like some kind of cobra while it hissed unpleasantly. Hastur hastily placed the filled water dish in the last of the birds’ cages and fled the building.

He walked across the street where he parked his car, reluctant to park it in the paved area of the building as if keeping it off the property could give him plausible deniability if he was ever caught here. As he was starting it, a rather fancy model he identified as Gabriel Barcroft’s pulled up to the front door. The engine was killed, the lights turned off, but Gabriel didn’t get out. Thinking something was up, Hastur crouched down low in his seat to watch. He didn’t have long to wait until another car pulled up and a burly man in his thirties exited.

He and Gabriel checked out the immediate area very carefully before they proceeded with their next move. Hastur remained glued to the spot to watch whatever was going to occur next. Maybe he could blackmail Gabriel with his new-found information.

“I can’t be seen by him if he’s conscious, so it’s up to you from here,” Gabriel said to Sam as they walked to the back of his car to open the boot. Standing far back from it, he clicked the button on the key fob and the handle popped, the lid bouncing just enough to discern it was now able to be opened. Pushing it up, Sam peered inside at the young man curled up lying on his side. He looked up and whimpered at the light filtering in from the one lamp on the side of the building that shone on the car park in the front. Feebly, he threw an uncoordinated hand over his eyes then was still.

“Hey” Sam punched his shoulder. “You in there?”

He received no response, so shrugged and pulled the young man’s body out, slinging it over his shoulder and taking him inside the warehouse. Once inside, he carried him to the small office that Gabriel had unlocked for him when he went on ahead inside the building. He stood off out of the line of sight, waiting while Sam set Anthony on the floor. Once Sam exited, Gabriel locked the door again. The hired henchman gave Gabriel a concerned look as he turned the key, sliding the lock into place.

“He doesn’t look too good.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“How hard did you hit him? There’s like water coming out of his mouth and nose. That can’t be good.”

Gabriel gave a humourless grin. “Well, then his parents had better hurry up with that ransom.” 

He fished out the disposable phone he had purchased with some cash and unlocked the door again. “Almost forgot.”

Training the phone’s camera on Anthony’s prone body among the boxes stored there, he snapped a few photos then locked up one last time. Turning on his heel to head to the front door, he noticed Sam warily staring at the snake enclosures. 

“Let’s go,” the man muttered. “That black one’s making me nervous.”

Gabriel stared into its yellow eyes and shrugged. “It’s just a stupid reptile. Nothing to . . .” He swore the snake gave him a rather sinister smirk. 

Walking over to the cage, he gave it a hard smack, causing the snake to rear and show off fangs he was glad were behind glass.

“Let’s go,” said Sam again, this time nervously. “I don’t trust that one.”

“Knock it off. It’s just a snake,” laughed Gabriel as they exited. “What’s it going to do? Open up the door on that cage and slither out to get us?”

 _You have_ no _idea_ , thought the snake as the door slammed behind them, the sound echoing through the room and causing several of the birds to startle.

~*~*~

“Gabriel and another man were just at the warehouse. They left Anthony there,” announced angel Aziraphale. “Crowley will be going to get him out in just a few moments. He’s waiting for them to leave.”

The three young humans looked relieved but their expressions changed to worry again as Aziraphale held up a hand.

“Oh, dear. It seems Anthony has sustained a serious injury. It’s nothing Crowley can’t heal, but it’s an injury to his head and that means it’ll take a few hours to heal. We can miracle away cuts, scrapes and broken bones speedily, but injuries this bad take time.”

Bee clenched their fists upon hearing this. Dagon paled, wondering what Gabriel did to him. 

“Can’t he transport him here first?” asked young Aziraphale, a look of pure agony on his face.

“I’m afraid not. He doesn’t want to risk further injury by moving him.” The angel smiled reassuringly. “Crowley will protect him. He’ll come to no further harm, I promise.”

“I want to go to him,” young Aziraphale stated in a tone that brooked no arguments.

Or would have if it had not been directed at an angel.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. You three need to stay out of the line of fire. It’s still not safe. Here you are protected.”

Young Aziraphale fixed him with a look of steel and the other two humans watched as one blue-eyed blond stood off against the other. 

“Aziraphale, just stop,” said Bee. “I want him home safe as much as you do, but let’s trust Crowley. He and Aziraphale saved me. They’ll save Anthony, too.”

“Then tell Crowley to transport him here. He can heal any extra damage.”

“That’s not always a given,” replied the other Aziraphale softly. “Our powers work up to a certain point and after that, we have to ask God permission to do anything further. The problem with that is She only steps in when absolutely necessary.”

Young Aziraphale stood up in his anger. “But you said Anthony and I staying together was important! Isn’t that your mission?”

“Yes, it is. But that doesn’t mean She won’t allow mistakes to happen or free will to take its course. We cannot be taking actions that could doom Anthony. We must follow what protocol we know to be correct.” Angel Aziraphale gazed at him out of those inhumanly blue eyes. “Or do you want to risk losing him?”

Young Aziraphale crumpled back onto the couch with a sob. Bee put an arm around him. They would wait. It was all they could do for now. Bee hoped that Crowley would provide them with updates as they sat here together while the time passed agonisingly slowly. The three humans huddled together miserably while the one immortal smiled sadly upon them, a sign that he wished there was more he could do than sit here waiting with them.

~*~*~

Gabriel was on the phone to Sandy as soon as he got in his car. Distracted, he swerved through traffic on his way back to the office, earning him several angry honks from his fellow drivers. 

“He’s not doing well,” he growled into the phone. “All I can say is he’d better not die before I get my ransom money.”

“ _It doesn’t matter. Throw the body in the river if he does and just give them a random address saying he’s there. Then you need to disappear and quickly. I suggest taking the Tunnel to France_.” 

“That’ll look suspicious if I don’t show up for work.”

“ _It’s already suspicious that you’re the last person to see him before he disappeared._ ”

Gabriel sighed heavily. Sandy was right. He was very much stuck between a rock and a hard place here. Best to get what money he could out of it before slinking off to live another day in freedom. It sure beat the alternative of spending the rest of his life in prison. France wasn’t too bad; they spoke English decently there in some areas. He’d just flee to one of those. He always did find Provence nice this time of year. 

~*~*~

Crowley was out of the snake enclosure, at the door breaking into the office the moment he heard the cars drive away. Fumbling with the door, he wished the lock open to burst in to find the kid lying unresponsive on the floor. He knelt beside him using his powers to evaluate the situation and knew it wasn’t good. Whatever Gabriel had used to strike him, it had caused serious damage. He had sunk a section of Anthony’s skull into his brain which was swelling and bleeding to levels considered dangerous. Pressure on it was starting to cause brain damage and if Crowley waited to start healing him any longer, it might tip past the point of no return, even for a demon’s abilities. 

Gathering Anthony’s head in his lap, he placed his hands on his temples and got to work putting his skull back the way it should be then moving on to the injuries to the brain itself. He was still for about forty-five minutes. Sweat trickled down his temples, but Anthony was breathing more steadily now and had a stronger pulse. Another half an hour passed without the demon shifting from his position. Finally, he looked up with a sigh. Crowley was fatigued, but the bleeding was gone and the swelling under control. He could afford to rest now for the pressure on Anthony’s brain was no longer bad enough to result in damage. The remaining injuries could wait until Crowley had rested and replenished his powers. 

Rummaging around the place, he found a camp bed and laid Anthony in it then curled up around him in snake form for two reasons. First, there was only one bed, and he was not in any position to be miracling up another after the amount of energy he had used. Second, Crowley needed to sleep despite the fact someone could return. An escaped snake was explainable. Another person on another portable bed . . . not so much. As much as he loathed his snake shape, it was the most logical to use right now. Still, he’d be happy when it came time to kiss this warehouse and the shape-shifting goodbye. The demon hated nothing as much as leaving his favourite form. 

He coiled up next to Anthony’s head where he could keep an eye on his breathing while he dozed. He’d awaken if he heard a change in it that indicated things had taken a turn, meaning there would be some emergency healing to perform again. Until then, he’d spend an hour or so resting after he sent word back to Aziraphale about how everything was going here.

 _Angel_. . .

~*~*~

“Anthony’s out of immediate danger. Gabriel hit him on the back of the head with something very hard and there was a good chance brain damage would occur,” Angel Aziraphale announced. “Crowley has healed that up, but he needs to take about an hour to rest before he can continue healing Anthony. Everything will be fine. We’ll get through the next couple of hours and Anthony will be home good as new.”

Bee and Dagon look relieved. They were not the only ones; young Aziraphale appeared like he would burst out in tears of relief any moment now. 

~*~*~

Gabriel had scouted out a place to do the ransom exchange and drove home for the night with the plan of checking on Anthony in the morning — masked, of course — then making the call to his parents. Everything was going to plan, a hastily arranged plan that might include the return of a body, but it still was a plan. He was feeling good about this until he approached his front door only to find Hastur standing in the shadows grinning like a cat that had caught a canary.

“How did you find my house?” Gabriel demanded. 

“I’ve been following you since you and Sam took Crowley out of the boot of your car. So much for being careful, huh?”

Gabriel swallowed, feeling real fear now. What was Hastur up to? 

“What do you want?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice level. The last thing he needed was complications. “Besides money. You can’t even get that on your own, can you? You’re always riding someone else’s coattails.”

“You don’t kidnap someone rich like that unless you’re going to ransom them and everyone knows that suit shop of yours isn’t profitable. Give me twenty per cent of what you get, and I’ll walk away.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’ll go to the police.”

Gabriel barked out a laugh. “You think the police are going to believe you? You’re a convicted drug dealer.”

“You’re not in any position to negotiate with me here, Barcroft.”

“Oh, I think I am. Remember that drug deal you did outside my shop about two months ago?” Gabriel had his phone out, thumbs frantically typing something out as he talked. “I got it on video and I just sent it to a friend of mine. If anything happens to me, he’ll take it to the police. So, if you want that twenty per cent, you’re going to work for it. You can do the drop for me.”

Hastur’s facial expressions turned to one of anger. “You’re bluffing about the video.” 

Gabriel punched a few buttons on his phone. Hastur’s dinged. He looked at it, glaring up at Gabriel in a rage after viewing what he had sent.

“I don’t bluff. Do the drop-off. You’ll get your money. If not, you’ll get nothing. Understand?”

Hastur smiled. “How do you know I just won’t run off with the funds?”

“Because I’ll be in the car waiting for you. I only need someone willing to show their face, so I don’t have to. You see how this works?”

Hastur glared at him, caught in a trap of his own making. Gabriel gave him a cold smile as he texted him an address. 

“Good. Be here when I call for you, understand?”

Unlocking his front door, Gabriel entered feeling rather smug about fixing that potential bump in the road better known as Hastur. He threw his keys in the bowl he kept on the table in his entrance and walked into his living room where he settled down on his couch to watch a little television before heading to bed. He had a busy day tomorrow, starting with being up early to check on the Crowley boy. The kid would at least need some water or something by then and maybe someone to tend his wounds if Gabriel could pull a few strings. Sandy wasn’t the only one who happened to have connections and Gabriel had decided he wanted to keep his prey as undamaged as possible before handing him over. He wasn’t anything if he wasn’t compassionate. A goodwill gesture towards the kid’s parents. Little did he know what lay in wait for him at the warehouse and that nobody on this particular Earth was better protected right now than his hostage.


	19. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not over yet and Crowley's going to make them pay.

Anthony groaned bringing Crowley to full alertness. This was not the time for him to be coming to, here in the warehouse with a snake wrapped around his head. He was hoping he could get him back home before he regained consciousness. He slid off the bed, becoming human-shaped in the process.

“Nonononono! Go back to sleep. Don’t wake up now!”

Anthony stirred, his eyes opening. “Where am I?”

Crowley was kneeling beside him. “Don’t panic. Please don’t panic. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

“Someone hit me. My head. I was . . . in the boot of a car I think . . . why do you look like me?”

“Circumstances of causality. Don’t worry about it. Dammit, I have to get you out of here.” He put his hands on the sides of Anthony’s head. “This isn’t going to feel good, but I need to speed things up.”

Anthony whimpered in pain, his head spinning and his stomach churning like it was going to lose its contents. He reached up feebly to try to pry Crowley’s fingers off his temples, his actions in vain. He closed his eyes and clawed at him begging him to stop. 

“Please . . . I don’t know what you’re doing. . . just don’t.”

“Healing you. Just take my word for it, okay? Let me. We can’t get out of here until I get you past a certain point.”

_Aziraphale?_

_Yes, dear?_

_He’s awake, confused and panicking. I about have him healed and will be able to get him out of here._

_I’ll let everyone know._

Crowley gave up, this was not working with Anthony awake, and he was just going to work himself in a bigger panic once he saw the angel. Reaching in mentally, he triggered the sleep response in Anthony’s brain putting him out again. Lifting him up in his arms, he disappeared, to appear in Anthony and Aziraphale’s living room where everyone waited anxiously for them. The flat seemed a perfectly normal human dwelling, unlike his, which he had used a few demonic miracles on to suit his tastes, making it grow into an illogical maze of rooms.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Crowley asked as young Aziraphale let out a strangled cry and broke free of Bee’s grasp to stagger forward towards them. “It would be better if he woke up there without you or me around, angel.”

“Second door on the left past the loo,” said Bee.

Crowley entered the bedroom, looking around with a smirk at the sleek dark wood furniture and mismatched empty bookshelves waiting to be filled and laid Anthony on the bed. He had given up his own flat some time ago to move into the one above the bookshop where the bedroom was filled with his sleek dark wood furniture and two bookshelves of volumes Aziraphale enjoyed reading before he went to bed. Mortal, immortal. Some things never changed. 

He turned to leave, finding young Aziraphale in the doorway, the look of someone who had nearly lost the love of their life only to find them alive again written across his face. He looked at Crowley then grabbed him in a hug with the same soft body as his Aziraphale. Gingerly, Crowley returned it then peeled the kid off of him.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. Not a chance I’d let them hurt him. I’m going to get out of here. He was pretty upset when he came to. I think we’ll have to break things to him slowly when he wakes up.”

Crowley headed back out to the living room and to his Aziraphale’s arms, ignoring the two humans still in the room. He pressed his forehead against the angel’s with a sigh.

“I have to go back,” whispered Crowley.

“Why? Anthony’s safe.”

“For now. If we let them get away with it, it’s not going to end. He’ll always be in danger. One of us has to go back in his shape and see this through to the end. They have to pay.”

“We can’t kill anyone, my dear.” 

“Police exist, and you have ways of making sure they show up at the right moment.”

Across the room, Dagon felt a twinge of unrequited love as she watched them hold each other, speaking in low voices about what to do next, forehead against forehead. She felt like she was watching Anthony and his Aziraphale’s future. Looking at Bee, she said, “You should go to Anthony. He’s your brother.”

“I will later. Let Aziraphale have his time.”

Dagon reached over to take Bee’s hand as the immortals came to an agreement. Bee looked down, surprised, but did not pull away. Instead, they squeezed back and got a small smile in return from Dagon. 

“What are you going to do?” Bee asked the immortals.

“I am going back,” said Aziraphale. “Crowley is tired from using his powers to heal Anthony. He should stay here to rest.” 

Aziraphale concentrated for a moment, shifting before their eyes into Anthony, but an Anthony who was just a bit off to those who knew him well even if they couldn’t articulate exactly why. He smiled tentatively at them, kissed Crowley fully on the mouth then disappeared from view after gently plucking the location from Crowley’s mind via their mental link, making Dagon jump. Bee took it in stride. 

“Thank you,” they said to Crowley.

“For what?”

“Saving my brother. You’re not bad for a demon.”

“You’re not bad for a human, Beelzebub,” he replied. “Demons don’t normally need sleep, but I need to replenish my power. Is there a bed I can crash on?”

“First door on the right.”

“I’m going to ward the door so nobody can get in. Don’t open it, or you’ll ruin the demonic miracle I’m about to put on it.” He waved his hand as if performing such acts was not only easy but innate to him. “I’ll be about an hour. Do come to get me if Anthony wakes up.”

He stumbled off, his exhaustion apparent and both the humans were sure he was in contact with the angel still. They would have been right had they said something, for Crowley was giving Aziraphale instructions about where to be and what he knew was going to happen. He disappeared from view, leaving Bee and Dagon alone, still holding hands. Dagon felt self-conscious now, gave a squeeze and let go. She cleared her throat, the sound awkward in the silence. Bee shifted from foot to foot.

“Let’s sit down,” Dagon suggested. “Let Aziraphale have his time like you said. We can find something to watch on the telly and I can reheat the tea if you want.”

“I can’t drink anything at a time like this. I’ll just throw it back up.” Bee’s cheeks coloured slightly. “Did you see them? They’re in love. An angel and a demon.”

“Yeah. It’s something. I never thought about angels and demons falling in love. Especially not with each other.”

They stared out the window at the setting sun, Dagon lightly rubbing their leg in a soothing manner. It felt good, but they were unsure if they should say something or just enjoy the feeling. It felt like one of those moments that could easily be shattered by a clumsy word said at the wrong time. Bee put their head on Dagon’s shoulder, allowing the tears to come now that there were no guardian angels to watch them cry, while Dagon comforted them and allowed them the emotional moment.

~*~*~

Young Aziraphale sat by the bed he shared with Anthony, watching his boyfriend slumber and wondering when he would awaken from it. But he was thankful Anthony was safe despite the strange circumstances that led up to his rescue. The thought of guardian angels and demons from another version of Earth who looked like them was too overwhelming to even consider. He lifted Anthony’s hand to caress it, tracing over his slim fingers. Then he leaned over to kiss it, Anthony responding with a soft murmur that made Aziraphale smile. 

He didn’t notice Crowley walk in, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. The demon stood behind him for a moment watching before he spoke up.

“How’s he doing?”

Aziraphale jumped, turning to look at Crowley. “Oh, I didn’t hear you. He’s muttering in his sleep sometimes, but not waking up yet.”

“He will. He’s just sleeping, not in some kind of serious unconscious state . . . whatever they’re called. Don’t heal humans that often. Not much call for it in my former line of work.”

Aziraphale glanced at him. Somehow he appeared older than his Anthony, yet ageless at the same time. He knew he was looking at a being who had lived countless years, who would live countless more and had magical abilities beyond his wildest imagination. He felt small knowing he was in Crowley’s presence, more so than when he was in the other Aziraphale’s. Something about the angel was very unassuming, but not so with him. 

“You don’t seem the type to be a demon.”

“Yeah, well . . . Heaven didn’t like those who asked questions. Once they got rid of those who openly rebelled, they purged all of us sceptics from the ranks, too.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Aziraphale smiled at him, noticing for the first time that he was wearing sunglasses inside a darkened room. “I keep noticing similarities between your Aziraphale and me, and you and my Anthony. He forgets to take off his dark glasses inside a lot of the time. I have to remind him.”

Crowley shrugged. “Demons have great night vision.”

But Aziraphale noticed he made no attempt to remove them. “Your eyes are unusual, aren’t they? Like his. He’s self-conscious about them because they’re almost yellow in shade, but I think they’re beautiful.” He gasped as a flash of Crowley’s face _sans_ glasses appeared in his mind. “Oh my. Your eyes . . . really?”

“Yes.”

“How . . . how would I know that?”

“Collective memory. It’s been activated now that we’re all sharing the same space. Just keep that bit of information to yourself. I’ll be across the way napping for a bit. Come get me when he wakes up if I’m not awake already. Oh, and also . . . imagine that your mind is a room with an open door. Imagine shutting it and try to keep that image of a shut door in the back of your mind. It’ll put a wall between our thoughts and yours. The last thing you want to see is snippets of our sex life.”

He smirked as Aziraphale blushed, then sauntered out again. 

~*~*~

Meanwhile, the other Aziraphale was lying on a cot in the dark wondering when anything was going to happen. So far he had been left alone with nobody coming in to check on him yet, and he wondered if they could have just monitored the place from afar until morning. But it was only a couple of hours later Hastur showed up to check on him. Unfortunately, he could only gaze in the wire-infused window on the office door. Aziraphale tried to remain as still as possible as the torch on his phone shined directly into his eyes.

“Hey! You awake? Hey!” Hastur knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the warehouse.

Aziraphale didn’t move. 

“Shit. Bet that kid’s dead.”

He walked away, his footsteps echoing until the front door closed behind him. With a sign, Aziraphale sat up. 

_Crowley?_

_Mmm . . . yeah?_

_Did I wake you? I apologise._

_Don’t worry about it. I overslept anyway. What’s up?_

_Hastur was here. He appears worried young Anthony might be dead._

_Hmmm, maybe I can go shake him down for information on Sandy._

_Can you find him?_

_The bastard couldn’t have gone far. I’ll fly over the whole damn city if I have to._

_Be careful, my dear._

He felt alone again as Crowley withdrew from his mind, the connection between them still open but quiet. Aziraphale laid back down to wait again, wishing he had at least a book to read. Finally, he decided to give sleep a try.

~*~*~

“Hastur!”

The man with his shock of Andy Warhol-like hair looked around for that voice. It was so familiar and so unwelcome. He froze, stuck between deciding if he should make a run for the shitty flat he rented or should just duck back into his second-rate car in hopes he could drive off before the one with that voice showed up. It was that red-headed maniac in sunglasses who seemed so familiar, yet not. He neither ran nor dived back into the car, remaining standing

He didn’t expect him to swoop down from the sky on a pair of enormous black wings, their incredibly long feathers creating a breeze as he back winged down, cutting off Hastur’s escape route. Hastur tried to get the car door open again.

“Don’t even think about it.”

The man slammed a hand against the frame of the car door, leaving a dent that should have left his hand in pain, but he gave no indication this was the case. 

“Soooo, what do you know about the disappearance of Anthony Crowley? And what does Sandalphon know about it?”

“I’m . . . I’m not really involved. I just feed the birds.”

“Bollocks.”

“I didn’t know they were going to kidnap someone. But Barcroft blackmailed me! He’s got some proof of a drug deal. It’s not my fault!”

“Barcroft?”

“Gabriel! I’m to do the drop tomorrow after he calls the kids’ parents!”

“And Sandalphon?”

Hastur swore the man’s eyes glowed behind his sunglasses. He raised his hands as if that would be enough to keep someone who had dented a rather solid part of a car at bay.

“I don’t know! I haven’t spoken to the bloke! His office is over on Greenbrier Lane!” He stammered out an address.

“You’ve been most helpful. I’ll let you live. You don’t, by chance, know where he lives?”

“No. Gabriel Barcroft does, but I don’t. I just do jobs for him once in a while. Not like I’m his friend.”

He was alone again as Crowley took off, his strong wing beats taking him above the city. 

Getting out his phone, he tapped in the address he had been hoping his GPS worked in this universe. It looked good, and he followed the directions to a rather nice building in a nice section of town. How classy of Sandy. He was going to enjoy tearing his office apart. Hopefully on security camera.

Landing, he walked up to the place where he tore off the door and entered into the reception area where he picked up one of the two chairs situated before the receptionist’s desk and threw it effortlessly through the window with a feral grin. The other chair followed. The table laid neatly with a handful of tasteful magazines was next.

Crowley hoped he had got someone’s attention by now.

Just for good measure, he leapt on top of the receptionist’s desk, picked up the computer monitor and smashed it against that wall. The keyboard was kicked to the floor along with a cascade of paperwork. He spared the plants and some pictures of humans that must have been the receptionist’s family and friends. From there he wondered if he should pull down some ceiling tiles then start messing with whatever wiring existed in the space between them and the roof or head to Sandalphon’s office to make an even bigger mess.

Why not both?

Pulling down one ceiling tile, he folded his wings back into the ethereal plane and shimmied his skinny body up into the ceiling where he crawled across the fragile dropped ceiling that only held his weight because he wanted it to. And would you look at that . . . a whole ceiling full of light fixtures and wires and big silver tubes that could easily be punctured by demon claws and insulation to rip up . . . He probably should not tell Aziraphale he went on a little property destruction spree, he thought as he yanked the wire off a light fixture, watching it spark as it separated. A complete mess was left in his wake as he crawled his way to Sandalphon’s office, kicked out another tile and dropped in next to his desk. 

Feeling leisurely about it, Crowley overturned filing cabinets, dumping out their drawers in the process before spreading paper all over every last centimetre of carpeting. He proceeded to throw the desk through the wall then remove the wheels and armrests from the rather comfy-looking office chair. Crowley only stopped because the sound of sirens had reached his ears. Ah! Music!

Sauntering out of the building, he leaned unseen against a police car and watched while they secured the building, looked up who owned it then made a call to Robert Sandalphon. Perfect. He owned the building which made this much easier. Crowley lay in wait like a predator, enjoying every moment. 

He especially enjoyed it when Sandalphon showed up to see the redecorating he had done. Moving off into the shadows in front of the building, he waited just a few minutes longer while Sandalphon spoke to the police then stood fuming after they left with some paperwork and his iPhone to his ear yelling at his goons to get here and start cleaning up. Afterwards, he spent half an hour taking pictures before calling insurance about filing a claim. Crowley moved in as soon as he finished up, finding him righting the filing cabinets in his office.

He cornered him, grabbing the man by his pudgy arm. “We need to talk. Anthony Crowley. What do you know about his disappearance?”

Cold eyes stared back at him telling Crowley this man was a lot more callous and collected than that amateur Hastur.

“All I know is that he’s a waiter at my restaurant. He didn’t show up for work when he was scheduled. Now I suggest you leave before I call the police back here.”

“Well, if you wish to play that game.” Crowley’s smile suggested he could play it better. “You will be contacted by the police when the boy is found, and you will tell them everything you know.”

Sandy snorted. “Is that some kind of threat? What are you going to back it up with?”

“Oh, it’s no threat.” Crowley's voice was deadly confident. “It’s a curse. When the time comes, you’ll have no choice.”

“A curse?” Sandy broke out into derisive laughter. “That’s the best joke I’ve heard all week! A curse!”

He laughed until he had to catch his breath, but when he looked up, Crowley was gone.

“It’s no joke. You’ll see when the time comes.”

The disembodied voice accompanied by the sudden cold breeze through the broken windows gave Sandy worried pause. Shaking the creepy feeling off, he got back to work picking up paperwork to shove back in the filing cabinets. Little did he know that dramatic little breeze was caused by a pair of very large very well-groomed black feathered wings and that a demonic miracle would have him telling the truth when the time came. The mystery man’s words would seem a lot less funny when that occurred. 


	20. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony awakens and the young adults try to figure events (and Crowley) out while Crowley and Aziraphale wrap up some last business before tomorrow morning.

_Anthony and Aziraphale’s flat, earlier that evening_

Crowley felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was awakened by the hesitant tapping on the door. He rolled off his side to check his watch, seeing he had been asleep for about an hour and a half. Yawning first, he answered.

“Yes?”

“Anthony’s awake. You said to tell you.” 

Young Aziraphale’s voice was hesitant, like he didn’t want to disturb Crowley. Smart boy. He reminded Crowley a lot of his Aziraphale back when the world was new and the angel was naive about how everything worked. Crowley didn’t doubt the young man would become wiser with years. He wondered if Anthony was just as brash as he was back in Biblical times when he used an awful lot of luck and bravado to get through assignments. From what he had seen, he was soft, caring and generous with those he loved. Crowley wondered if he, himself, was like that with Aziraphale those first years. 

He also thought he had forgotten to tell young Aziraphale to come get him. Bee or Dagon must have said something to him.

“Give me a moment. Is he upset or anything? He was rather panicked by me.”

“No, just groggy right now.”

“Good. Go keep him calm.”

He sat up, reaching blindly for his sunglasses. Sliding off the expensive sheets — at least the kid had taste as well as money — he headed across the hall, stopping in the doorway to assess the situation. Young Aziraphale and Anthony were speaking quietly, Aziraphale leaning over the bed and practically in Anthony’s arms. Was this what he and the angel looked like at times? Was this what love looked like from the outside? He felt like he was intruding, and cleared his throat. They both looked up at him in surprise, Anthony wide-eyed and Aziraphale with a slow smile. He pushed himself up and walked over to Crowley, looking hauntingly like his Aziraphale right now, hands behind his back, rocking on his heels slightly, all of it.

“How should we do this? I haven’t said much to him about it. He asked how he got here and all he remembers is there was someone else in the room with him at the warehouse, but he couldn’t even describe you.”

“I’ll just follow you in. Get this over with all at once.” 

Aziraphale nodded and walked back into the room where Anthony was now sitting up. Returning to the side of the bed, he helped him get situated, pulling pillows over to stuff them behind Anthony. 

“There’s someone here to see you, my dear.”

“Police? Did they catch the guy?”

“No. The one who rescued you.” Aziraphale took up his hand. “And before you meet him, you should know that Bee’s guardian angels are real.”

“What?”

“Just be prepared, please?”

Crowley approached, waiting for the inevitable reaction. What he received was a young man looking calmly up at him, not sure whether to believe that his doppelgänger stood before him. His eyes were unusual — such a light golden hazel that they were a shade away from yellow, but Crowley's healing of them would cause a shift in their colour. One could not heal one's other self without leaving a bit of oneself behind. 

Anthony's hand reached out to grasp young Aziraphale’s, yet his facial expression did not change.

“Glad to see you awake,” said Crowley. “It was touch and go there for a while. I was worried I was too late to heal you.”

“Thanks,” said Anthony. “Sorry. Finding this hard. Wait . . . how do you heal a head wound? There’s nothing there now.” He was feeling the back of his head, finding that there were clumps of dried blood in his hair, but nothing else. “I felt like I was dying.”

“You would have. Or at least you would have had severe brain damage. I could read that much going on. It’s not an easy thing to wrap your head around, I bet. I’m Crowley, by the way, and I didn’t heal you in any conventional way. Otherwise, you’d be in the hospital undergoing whatever treatments human doctors do with people who have severe head injuries.”

“So, you are an angel?”

“Was, more like it.” The slight bitterness he felt rose its head now at the most inopportune time. _Fuck_.

Clutching his head, Anthony whimpered. “Oh my God . . . Fall . . . Snake . . . All that Biblical stuff happened? The world almost ended?”

Aziraphale bent over him in concern, worried blue eyes looking up at Crowley. The demon bent close to the bed, murmuring the closed door exercise that he had told Aziraphale to perform. Slowly Anthony stopped reacting, but the tears that had fallen stayed on his cheeks as he shut off the connection between them. Crowley stood back up, giving him a smile full of regret, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. Anthony wiped away the tears before looking up at him again.

“Sorry. I should have said something earlier. We’re different versions of the same person so there’s some collective memory there. I can’t close off my mind without breaking the mental connection I have with my Aziraphale. And yes, those Bible stories are all true and the same across all the multi-verses. It’s just here someone other than me happens to be a demon.” He shrugged. “Also, I’m told the demons and angels here don’t really bother with agents on Earth. They do all their tempting and good deeds from their own Realms. So, we could come here without it being discovered. I imagine God’s hiding us as well because you can’t tell me they wouldn’t notice our miracles. Sorry, getting into too much detail.”

“Oh, God. My life is getting weird. Demons are real and one healed me.”

“I don’t play for either team these days. Neither does my Aziraphale. We’ve been exiled to Earth for openly opposing Armageddon, but apparently we’re the best agents God has. Or She wants to keep us out of trouble. Still haven’t figured that out.”

“This is just too much. I’m sorry. I do appreciate you saving my life, but . . .”

Crowley held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s complicated. It also doesn’t help you still need rest. You’ve been through a lot and the speed of the healing I did on you is going to affect you. Stay in bed. You have a whole crew here who can wait on you hand and foot. Let them.” Crowley turned to leave. “I’m going to cut this short. Questions can wait until later.”

With a nod, he headed back to the spare bedroom to flop on the bed again. He still felt drained and wondered if being out of his own territory was affecting his ability to quickly regain his powers. Most miracles he did were small and didn’t affect his reserves. Refilling what was used was as quick as pouring a glass of water. Larger ones took more time to replenish the store of power he carried inside him, but he had never waited more than an hour for fully restored reserves. They were filling; he could sense that. Maybe another hour of sleep would speed things up.

He looked at the cat who had suddenly appeared on the bed, staring at him through blue eyes. 

“The bed’s mine. If you want the chair, the dresser or whatever cats sleep on, have at it.”

Demeter jumped down and walked out to go glare at the dog sleeping in the plant room. Dagon and Bee had stopped by Dagon’s place to bring Cerberus back so he could be fed and let out when needed without the requirement of driving elsewhere to do so. Crowley didn’t see the appeal of animals, but it didn’t matter. Pet hair was easy enough to get rid of.

He flopped back down to rest until his Aziraphale contacted him through the mental link with the information about Hastur’s visit. 

~*~*~

“He’s awake.”

Aziraphale walked into the living room, a tired but relieved look on his face, to find himself gently embraced by Dagon and Bee who stood with him for a moment before heading to the bedroom. He realised he belonged. He truly belonged, and the thought made him feel good. In such a short amount of time after being alone for so long, he had gone from an introvert who had moved to the city and not made any close friends to someone with a small circle of people who cared about him, and a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t popular, but it didn’t matter. He was loved.

“You coming?” called Bee as they left.

“I’ll be back. I really need to get a sandwich or something into me. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

He picked up the mug of tea from earlier, deciding to microwave it Not that reheated tea was the best, but waste not, want not. While it reheated, he threw together a quick sandwich of cheese and roast beef, not bothering with other fixings then gulped it down with the tea. The need to be with Anthony right now was strong, even though Anthony wasn’t alone, and they had some of the best protection in the universe dozing in one of the spare bedrooms. Aziraphale realised he was eating too fast when he almost choked on a bite of his food, forcing himself to slow down. He was only going to be absent for a short amount of time. Anthony would still be there when he returned.

Down the hall, Bee was pleased to see their brother awake, and so was Dagon, resulting in another round of hugs all around before they allowed Anthony to lay back on the pillows again. He looked confused and tired yet considering the last time either one of them saw him, he was hanging limp in Crowley’s arms, they were both thankful he was still among the living, no matter how he appeared. He watched both of them as they pulled up the two chairs that normally sat in the bedroom window. The size of the master bedroom was obscene by normal British standards. 

“You look like you’ve got a lot of thinking going on,” said Bee.

“Your angels are real. It’s a good thing I didn’t make a bet with you on that.”

“I won’t rub it in. You’ve been through hell.”

“No,” said Anthony with a distant tone to his voice. “Not Hell. He’s been through that. I saw it because apparently our memories are connected or some such weirdness.”

Bee shuddered. “Yes, let’s not discuss that kind of weirdness. Do you know what happened to you?”

“I don’t remember much. Had lunch with Gabriel. He got all upset about something. Then I was hit on the head. It was him. It had to be him, but I don’t know for sure. I was in a boot. I don’t remember anything else until Crowley had his hands on my head. Was he healing me? Must have been. And a snake. I remember a very large snake curled around my head.”

“Sandy has a snake breeding facility or something,” said Dagon, looking uncomfortable. “That’s where they eventually took you. I was there with Crowley before they dumped you there. He stayed behind to wait. I’m pretty sure he was the snake.”

“I’ll have to ask him later. If I can. He intimidates me. He also seems aloof.”

“I don’t think they deal much with mortals. At least on a personal level,” said Bee.

“Why do you say that?”

They shrugged. “It’s probably business to them. Try to get people to be good or evil. Besides, they’ve been around their Earth for thousands of years. If I were them, I wouldn’t bother with mortal friends. It’d be like making a friend then having them die six months later. Not worth the effort.”

“True,” agreed Dagon. “Crowley seems fascinated by the human race. He talked about all the technology in my car like it was the best stuff ever. But you know, being fascinated by ants as a species isn’t the same as wanting to get to know them on an individual basis.”

“You’re comparing us to ants.” Bee crossed their arms.

“You started it.”

“Don’t they have stuff in cars like we do?” asked Anthony.

“They told me our worlds are pretty similar,” said Bee. “I would guess yes they do, so that’s weird.”

“He probably hasn’t spent a lot of time worrying about it. His driving is enough to scare you and I asked him if he had ever driven before. He took it as an insult. He has a Bentley and knows how to drive like a human, thank you very much. Seemed to take pride in being able to actually drive without using demonic powers or something.”

“Bentleys aren’t exactly lacking in technology,” said Anthony.

“It’s ninety-five years old. He’s owned it since new.”

“Oh . . . Hey, Aziraphale.” Anthony lit up, his hand patting the bed beside him.

“Talking about Crowley?” he asked as he climbed on up, sliding himself under the bed covers up against Anthony.

“What do you know? The other Aziraphale talked to you after the rest of us left. What did he say?” asked Bee.

Dagon leaned forward, eager to hear his answer. It wasn’t what she expected.

“That was a private conversation and I believe it should remain so.”

Dagon snorted. “You’re going to tell Anthony later.”

“No. This was told in confidence and I think he’ll understand if I don’t. Won’t you?”

Anthony nodded. He was trying to keep up here and starting to fail miserably. “Anyway, can you all fill me in on what happened while I was gone?”

They spent about an hour and a half doing that before their demon protector interrupted them.

“Stay here. And remember, don’t open the front door or you’ll ruin the ward I put on it. You’ll be fine until I get back.”

“Where are you going?” asked Bee.

“I have some information to gather.”

He walked out, leaving them all wondering what other information he needed to get. His tone told them he wasn’t in the mood to mess around with whomever he was after. A chill filled the room, and they all sat silent for a while afterwards. Bee put a hand on Dagon’s thigh; the two in the bed held each other tightly. 

~*~*~

Michael called Ligur after her shift afraid that Hastur might have convinced him to get involved in whatever was going on with the disappearance of Anthony Crowley. He was finishing up on an emergency call himself. His phone rang as he was packing up his tools in preparation of heading back to his workplace to clock out. Heading out to his lorry, he called her right back after he dumped his toolbox in the back of the van. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he waited for her to pick up.

“ _Bryan! I’m so glad you called back. Anthony Crowley is missing._ ”

“What? What happened?”

“ _I don’t know. He didn’t show up to work, but Prue Dagon showed up with a guy I don’t know. They asked some questions about Anthony then left in a hurry. Is Hastur involved with this_?”

Ligur rubbed the back of his neck. _Shit shit shit shit._ What was Hastur caught up in now? This couldn’t be good. 

“I haven’t talked to him in a few days. I’ll give him a ring and see what he’s got to say.”

“ _I’ll call Aziraphale Fell. See if he can tell me what’s going on. Talk to you later, babe._ ”

“I’ll text you. Let you know what I found out.”

He picked Hastur out of his contacts and hoped he’d answer his phone. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Rumour has it Anthony Crowley didn’t show up for work and hasn’t been seen for a day.”

“ _I know nothing about it._ ”

“Sure. I buy that after some of the stuff you’ve pulled. I’m not having this shit blow up in my face because I happen to associate with you. Get out now.”

“ _I can’t. Barcroft’s blackmailing me._ ”

“Fuck.” Ligur exhaled, his hand back rubbing the stiff muscles at the back of his neck. “You’d better think about what you’re doing and how to get out of it because this is serious. That kid’s parents are big movers and shakers in London, you know. The police’ll be all over this.”

He hung up, furious. How could Hastur? Getting in a quick text to Michael, he started the van and headed back to his workplace. He needed to get home to get what sleep he could and this kind of shit was not going to help. 

Little did he know across town, Hastur was staring out the window giving serious thought to contacting the police, even anonymously. He had proof he was being blackmailed because he had recorded the entire conversation with Gabriel. The original plan was to take it to Sandy just to show him how sloppy Gabriel was when it came to hiding his activities. Maybe he’d risk some jail time for that drug deal if it meant Gabriel went away for a long time. Or maybe anonymous was better.

Of course, he could try not rocking the boat by quietly doing his job and disappearing for a while once he got his money. And hope that avenging angel didn’t come after him again. 

Sighing, he started to dial.

~*~*~

Aziraphale’s phone rang as he looked down at it annoyingly before allowing it to go to voicemail. Returning to the conversation, he found the rest of the crew looking at him questioningly. Aziraphale sighed, squeezing Anthony’s hand like he would never let go again. Anthony smiled tiredly back at him, offering a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s up, angel?”

“Michael called. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure I want to talk to her.”

“You probably should. She’s dating Ligur. It’s possible she knows something.” Bee sounded urgent. Those who hurt them and their brother were still out there. Nobody wanted them caught and punished more than them. Secretly, they were hoping Crowley was out there right now doing just that. They had noticed those sharp fangs he attempted to keep hidden, figuring that was just a subtle sign that he was a force to be reckoned with. 

“I don’t think Ligur’s involved. I don’t believe Hastur is, either,” said Anthony. “Things come back the more you guys talk. I remember being taken out of the boot by Gabriel and some guy who hit my shoulder and asked if I was okay, but I was too far gone to respond.”

“Oh, Anthony.” Aziraphale didn’t care Bee and Dagon were here; he cuddled in close, anyway. 

“Hastur feeds the animals there. He at least might know what’s going on even if he isn’t directly involved,’ said Dagon. “Call her back.”

“No. Crowley’s handling it,” replied Bee.

“I’ve seen how Crowley handles it and I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side!” retorted Dagon.

“Fine, I will give her a ring. But I am also saying we haven’t found him yet. We can’t have her tipping off anyone if she’s not trustworthy.”

Aziraphale pulled up her number and pushed the button.

~*~*~

Michael’s heart beat fast as she picked up her phone. “Hello?”

“ _Hi, Michael. It’s me, Aziraphale, returning your call._ ”

“Oh, my God, Aziraphale. What is going on? Anthony didn’t show up for work today.”

“ _He’s missing. The police are involved, and we’re hoping for the best. Have you heard anything? Anything at all? Did you see something suspicious at the mall involving him?_ ”

“Bryan’s worried Hastur’s involved. I asked him to call him and he did. He texted me back to say Gabriel Barcroft’s blackmailing him. Hastur. I don’t know if that means he’s got him involved or what. I’ll speak to him tomorrow about it and pass on any information I get.”

" _Thank you. That’s all I can ask._ ”

She hung up, feeling more worried than ever for Anthony, Aziraphale and Ligur — the one in danger, the one who was missing a loved one and the one who could end up having a finger pointed at him thanks to his past involvement with these same people. Funny how the world worked. Six months ago, she wouldn’t have cared one iota about any of them. Now suddenly she had discovered she could be a tough, strong person and still have feelings. She would see what Ligur had to say tomorrow then pass on what she could to Aziraphale. It was the least she could do after treating him and Anthony the way she did.

~*~*~

Crowley was at the warehouse with Aziraphale, who still looked like Anthony, which he was finding disorienting as hell. He rubbed his eyes while he asked the angel to change back just for now. 

“Kissing a younger version of myself would just be . . . well . . . not something I want to do. Heaven, I had an easier time when we swapped bodies.” He embraced an Aziraphale who looked like Aziraphale, allowing the angel’s calming influence to wash over him. The brush of his lips against Crowley’s was the soft touch the demon needed right now. “Come home . . . I mean, back to the flat? Let’s set up a means to monitor here and you or I can jump back in quickly if we need to. No point in you sitting around bored on a camp cot playing decoy if it’s not needed.”

“All right. Young Anthony’s safe and that’s what’s important.”

Using a demonic miracle or two and his phone, Crowley set it up so the security cameras on the outside of the building and the ones inside pointing at both the front and back door. Testing it out, he poked a few buttons on his phone and had Aziraphale walk around in front of the doors. It set of an alert that would tell them someone was around. Aziraphale approached again after wandering around before the back entrance.

“Are they going to see us?”

“Nah. I set their footage on loop. They won’t notice anything but a quiet building.”

“But what about ransom calls to his parents? We’ve handled everything, and we certainly don’t need more people to know about our presence.”

Crowley snapped his fingers with a smile. “Taken care of. It’ll ring to my phone. I can pull the sound of the father’s voice from Bee or Anthony’s memories. I think now all we need to do is wait. Our best bet is waiting until morning. One of us will still have to be a decoy Anthony with head injury. The other can take the shape of one of their parents when calls are made by the police because they will be notified. It would be weird if family didn’t show up. This stops here. They need to be free to live their lives without drama. And I’m not interested in continuing to play constant guardian demon. It’s ridiculous.”

Grabbing Aziraphale’s hand, Crowley took them back to the flat where they collapsed together in a heap on the nearest couch, enjoying being able to touch each other again. They were kissing passionately, forgetting this was someone else’s house when Bee came in. Bee sighed, rolled their eyes then returned to Anthony’s room without the glass of water they wanted. Come to think of it, they really weren’t that thirsty.


	21. Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kidnapping saga is wound up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having issues with chronic pain, so updates might be late. It might be closer to ten days between them, but I will still be getting them out. I only have the falling action left on this story.

Anthony sat up in bed watching television while Aziraphale slept beside him, curled up under the blankets fully clothed with legs touching Anthony’s. Anthony himself hadn’t bothered to undress, staying in bed in the red henley and black dress trousers he’d been in since he changed for the fateful lunch with Gabriel. He wasn’t sure about actually getting up to walk around even though he felt fine, aside from a small tired feeling. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Crowley’s healing . . . ok, he didn’t trust Crowley’s healing. It was magic. Magic wasn’t real. None of this was real. He was hallucinating or something while still being held captive, part of his brain reasoned. This was too unreal to actually be happening.

He was going to wake up in the hospital with serious injuries. If he woke up at all.

Well, he could take advantage of this. Might as well have some fun if he was living in some kind of dream state. Concentrating, he tried to change the TV stations but all he did was give himself a mild headache. What was the point in being in some kind of dream-like state where there existed an angel and a demon if you didn’t get awesome powers yourself? He felt like crying out in frustration which would have awakened Aziraphale. Why did he feel this way? With a low growl, he tore back the duvet, getting out of bed.

He made it a few steps before a sharp pain stabbed through his temple causing him to sink to his knees with a cry. Anthony was holding his head sobbing when a gentle touch wrapped itself around him, a familiar hand brushing his long hair out of his face. He grabbed it, pulling it close to him where he could smell the familiar scent of the hand lotion Aziraphale used during this cold dry weather. It grounded him, and he clung to Aziraphale afraid to let go.

“It’s all right, my dear. What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I’m still in a car boot somewhere in some kind of coma or something.”

“I know this is all strange. I’m finding it hard to believe as well, but it’s real. I’m real and I’m here. Do you hurt?”

“My head hurts.”

“I’m going to get you back into bed and go get Crowley. Something is not right. He needs to look at you again.”

“Of course it’s not right. He’s a demon!” babbled Anthony.

Aziraphale tried to get Anthony back into bed, but he wouldn’t budge from his spot on the carpet. He had curled up onto himself, refusing to stand up, even with his boyfriend’s help. No amount of cajoling helped Aziraphale get Anthony back to bed where he needed to be.

“Shhh, I’ll get Aziraphale, then.”

“You’re Aziraphale.”

“Yes. There are two of us. Now, do you want me to fetch the angel or the demon?”

“No!”

“Anthony, let’s be reasonable here. I know this is strange, but you need to be in bed.”

“It’s not real. I’m not home. You’re not here.”

“I am here whether you can believe it at this time or not.” 

He stood up, leaving Anthony to reach up for him with a heartbreaking movement and a look of pleading on his face. Walking to the bed, he pulled the duvet off of it to wrap around the panicked young man as he crouched in a ball on the floor of the bedroom. Anthony’s long fingers clutched at it, bringing it in tight around his body as his shoulders shook with sobs. Aziraphale caressed his hair, knowing that there was probably no soothing someone who didn’t believe what his own senses were telling him. Anthony would have to come to his own conclusions about the world he had awoken to. All Aziraphale could do was wait and be there to give what comfort he could and what comfort Anthony would accept.

“I’m going to get Crowley or Aziraphale. This isn’t good at all. Crowley said you were healed enough, but maybe it’s not an exact science. Please, just sit there and don’t move.”

He rushed out to the living room where he knew the supernaturals were relaxing after they both returned from whatever they had been up to since Bee attempted to go get a drink only to come back to announce that those two were snogging on the couch. They had gone to bed soon after along with Dagon. Aziraphale suspected they were using the same bedroom since Crowley had claimed the only other free one with a bed. He doubted very much anyone had dragged his bare mattress out in the bedroom currently being used for storage to sleep on when there were perfectly serviceable beds in the flat. Bee and Dagon were getting familiar with each other as well, making it less of a surprise that they wouldn’t be bothered by sharing a bed.

He arrived in the living room to find Crowley and his Aziraphale seated on the couch cuddling under the sherpa fleece that usually sat folded on the back of it, eating popcorn out of an unfamiliar-looking bowl and watching _Arriving at Eternity_ , the latest film inspired by a book to come out on the streaming services. Young Aziraphale paused, finding it strange to see an angel and a demon doing something so _human_.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, but Anthony’s having problems. He’s complaining of pain and not acting right.”

“Coming. Healing brains can be difficult.” 

Crowley patted the angel’s thigh and got up. The other Aziraphale followed along, concerned.

“Do you need help?” he asked quietly.

Young Aziraphale suspected he wasn’t supposed to hear this part of the conversation.

“Maybe. You know I really only healed myself or you for the longest time. Easier than healing a human.”

“If you don’t think it an insult, I can evaluate him this time. I’ve done a lot more work on humans than you have. I’m not insulting . . .”

“Angel, I know. It’s not an insult. It’s a situation where you have had more experience. Don’t feel guilty about it.”

Young Aziraphale almost laughed out loud at Crowley calling his boyfriend “angel”. Feeling rather silly about that, he was thankful to enter the bedroom where attention would be on Anthony, who was still huddled miserably in the middle of the floor. He gazed up at Aziraphale, looking very confused, small and scared.

“Angel, I hurt.”

“Yes, I know. Let’s get you back in bed. No use sitting on the cold floor making things worse.”

“No.”

“Please? You need to. I’ll help you.”

“This isn’t real. It can’t be real.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if you move, does it? You can move all over, wherever you want. No need to be cold.”

“Kid, it’s three against one here and two of us have magical abilities,” said Crowley. “So, you either do it yourself or it’ll get done for you.”

Struggling to his feet, Anthony grudgingly allowed his Aziraphale to guide him back to the bed and throw the duvet over him again. Then Aziraphale stepped back to allow the angel and demon to approach.

“Anthony, they’re here to help, all right?”

Anthony nodded, clutching at the duvet tightly enough his knuckles were turning white. He watched the other Aziraphale approach with the wariness of a trapped and injured animal. Angel Aziraphale gave him a warm smile and took his hand up in a gentle grasp. 

“Hello, Anthony. I’m Aziraphale. Well, Crowley over there’s Aziraphale . . .”

Crowley nodded as Anthony looked his direction.

“. . . and I’d like to examine you, please, if you don’t have any objections to it. I believe I can read your problem and correct it.”

“All right.” Anthony sounded sceptical, but willing to allow him a chance.

Aziraphale laid soft hands on either side of his head, whispering soothing words to Anthony, who was trembling with each fast breath he took.

“Just my hands. That is all. You will not feel a thing. There. Hold still for me, please. Yes, just like that. You’re doing wonderfully.”

Anthony moaned then went limp in Aziraphale’s arms. At the foot of the bed, young Aziraphale cried out, held back in his attempt to go to his boyfriend by Crowley, who had a steel-tight grip on his upper arm.

“No. Let my Aziraphale work.”

The angel smiled up at him. “He is just fine. He developed a bit of a brain bleed, but healing like this can be touch and go with serious injuries. Plus, Crowley isn’t as experienced with humans as I am. Now, I’m keeping him out because I have an idea.”

“What?” asked Crowley, releasing his grip on the human Aziraphale.

“I’m going to make him think that he’s back in the warehouse. Then you’ll come to rescue him, Crowley. Well, so to speak. It might help young Anthony realise he’s not in a dream.”

Crowley was having none of it. “That’s a serious drain on your power which we might need later.”

“Oh?” replied Aziraphale coldly. “And who was running around the city with wings and claws manifested to terrorise people?”

“That took a half-hour to replace. Messing around in someone’s head is more than just a low-level miracle, and you know it.”

Young Aziraphale looked from angel to demon, watching the two bicker with the ease of beings who had been arguing for the better part of six thousand years. Back and forth the argument went until Crowley finally threw up his hands in a dramatic gesture, walking away towards young Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t know how, but the demon managed to glare at him through dark glasses in a dimly lit room. He stepped back, wondering what he did.

“Don’t turn out like him.”

Crowley pointed in the direction of the angel who was bending over the unconscious Anthony with a hand on his forehead. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Stubborn. Annoying dig-your-heels-in kind of stubborn. You’ll just irritate Anthony.”

Young Aziraphale didn’t see much wrong with this arrangement. From what he could tell, Crowley may have become irritated with the angel, but Aziraphale always got his way and Crowley forgave him his methods. Not a bad deal for his doppelgänger at all.

~*~*~

Dagon rolled over in her sleep to find Bee in the bed with her. She seemed a bit surprised when they had joined her in the bedroom instead of saying they’d sleep on the couch or take the other room even though it appeared Crowley had all but claimed it. Something told Dagon Bee would stand up to the demon despite the most likely outcome of that scenario was that they ended up back out on the couch. It didn’t matter, though. Bee was here instead of being a minor thorn in Crowley’s side. It felt nice. 

She rolled over and dared to put an arm over Bee’s side. They mumbled something but didn’t scoot away. Yes, this did feel nice.

Comforted, Dagon fell back asleep.

~*~*~

Crowley picked up Anthony as Aziraphale instructed him to then awoke the young human. He looked up into Crowley’s eyes and startled as the demon laid him on the bed. Aziraphale approached, touching Anthony’s leg to get his attention before speaking soothing words to him. The immortals stepped back.

“I connected his memories from waking up on the camp cot with you there to you holding him just now,” murmured Aziraphale. “He either won’t remember the stuff in between because of the bleed, or he’ll think it was a dream. But hopefully, he’ll think this is reality now.”

“All right. If that’s what you had to do to get him out of danger. We should probably go reintroduce ourselves.”

And they went through the whole introduction thing again from disbelief to acceptance, only this time Anthony was fully healed and would accept it as reality. All that was left now was to deal with Gabriel, yet so far the warehouse stayed quiet. Crowley wondered what would happen when morning came. 

“What time is it?” asked Aziraphale, who was looking rather worn after they retreated again to give the other two time together.

Crowley glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Just after one in the morning. Enough time for you to lay down and rest. It does help the entire refilling process along. C’mon. There’s a room across the way.”

Crowley grabbed him by the arm and marched him off to the bedroom he used earlier. He tucked the angel in bed before lying down beside him to leave kisses on his neck, making it very obvious he was in an amorous mood. 

“If you didn’t need the rest, and we didn’t need to stay alert, I would have you right here in this bed.”

“Always thinking with . . . what do they call it . . . oh, yes, your lizard brain. You silly creature.”

“I believe in my case it’s more of a snake brain.” Crowley placed one last kiss on Aziraphale, this time directly on his lips. “Good night, angel.”

“Good night, my dear.”

The entire flat was soon asleep — three couples wrapped in each other’s arms getting a few hours of rest before everything came to a head.

~*~*~

Gabriel was at the warehouse unlocking the office door when the police showed up. Looking out the office window, he made his choice, deciding he wasn’t giving in. There was too much at stake here and the penalties were high. Grabbing the Crowley boy, he dragged the half-aware kid towards the backdoor only to be thwarted by the kid’s suddenly increasing weight. He pulled Anthony along, the kid stumbling behind him until Gabriel could drag him no more.

“What the fuck? Get up! Walk!”

“I don’t feel well.”

The kid looked up at him and Gabriel swore he saw a hint of yellow snake eye as he gazed at him. Gabriel grabbed a handful of red hair. Crowley did his best not to sneer.

_You just try it, you bastard. I’ve fucked with Archangels. You’re nothing._

Gabriel let go, backing up in terror as he saw a snake head with a flash of fangs. That was enough for one officer to grab him and another to grab the disguised Crowley, who made sure he had a head wound covered in dried blood since the boot of Gabriel’s car was going to be stained with Anthony’s. The officer looked at him, taking in the stains on his clothing and injuries to the back of his skull. Being careful, he sat Crowley down on a nearby sturdy box before radioing for an ambulance.

From his seat on the box in the corner, Crowley watched them cuff Gabriel. Hiding a clandestine smile under a bowed head and strands of hair fallen forward, he watched Gabriel being taken out the front door and off to be whisked away in a police car to destinations unknown. He assumed they had some sort of holding system for suspects of crimes in this universe. A hive of activity was going on that he didn’t understand in the slightest before he found himself helped onto some kind of rolling bed (Crowley didn’t spend much time in hospitals or around ambulances), wheeled into the back of an ambulance and whisked off to a hospital. As long as they didn’t try to do anything serious, he’d play along. If they tried any of that human healer crap on him, he’d miracle up the correct paperwork and walk on out.

~*~*~

Bee showed up as next of kin along with angel Aziraphale who was posing as an uncle. They claimed Anthony’s parents were out of town, the nurses at the check-in station buying it. The two were ushered through the A&E waiting room to the patient area and to the room where they had put Crowley. He was sitting stretched out on the bed, bored. Behind him hung a bag of saline waiting in case it was needed to start up an IV on a patient. Crowley was currently inspecting the tubing he had unwound from its storage hook next to the bag. Aziraphale took it from him as soon as he walked in and placed it back where it belonged.

“That is not to play with. How are your eyes holding up?”

Crowley could keep his eyes disguised for a relatively short amount of time before they returned to their usual look and could not be disguised again for a while. He was not technically a snake, but some serpentine features wanted to get through quite badly. 

“Ok for now. They think I just have a concussion, so I copied that well enough to fool them. They want to keep me overnight for observation, but I said I have family who can do that. I’m already bored with this place. Can we go?”

“Did you give a police report based on what we were able to piece together?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a copy to give to Anthony to study?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s head back to the flat.”

“We’re not heading home?”

“They haven’t arrested Sandalphon or a few of his flunkies yet,” said Bee. “And yes, since Anthony worked for Sandalphon’s restaurant, he could easily find out where he lives.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess we’re still on guardian angel duty.” He glared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t sign up for this. I Fell, you know.”

Bee raised an eyebrow but kept their thoughts to themselves. It was hard enough to look at the demon lounging in the bed knowing that was not their brother sitting there.

Crowley rolled off the bed, standing up. Paperwork was clutched in his hand.

“I miracled myself up some discharge papers. Let’s go. I’m driving.”

~*~*~

Hastur stood with Ligur out about town on a pedestrian bridge where they could talk in private. They both leaned on the railing looking across the Thames at the art museum to their left on the far bank. Ligur was shaking his head at the story Hastur was telling. The older man finally turned to look directly at him instead of speaking to the buildings over yonder. His expression was sombre for he was aware of what his fate might be, and while it could be worse, he was still staring down a prison sentence of at least a few months.

“You’ll be out in no time,” said Ligur.

“I’ll still be serving three or four months for being involved in a smuggling ring if Gabriel keeps his mouth shut about me doing the exchange,” said Hastur. “He just might. Right now he has some serious charges he’s facing. He had his fingers in a lot of shady deals trying to keep that business of his open.”

“Listen, I’ll come to visit you. Once a week. I’m not going to just let you hang. You got to promise me you’ll clean up, though. Go straight. We can get you a good job when you’re out.”

Hastur listened, turning Ligur’s words over in his head. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I got in too deep, and it’s time to get out before I can’t any more.”

Ligur was a good as his word. Hastur spent four months serving time and his friend was there to visit every week. Upon release, Hastur managed to get a part-time job as a cashier at a supermarket where he worked for six months before Ligur’s employer thought he might be worth apprenticing. Now working full-time at an apprenticeship, it looked like things might be finally turning around for him. Ligur was pleased his long-time friend was able to make such changes to his life and hoped that they were permanent.

~*~*~

Young Aziraphale and Dagon were cooking eggs and heating the kettle for tea when the other three returned to the flat. Anthony was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee chatting with the cooks. He had changed out of his clothes, showered the dried blood out of his hair and looked as normal as when Aziraphale and Crowley first laid eyes on him. The angel did one more health check on him to make sure before both the immortals sat down to discuss what happened at the warehouse and give him the police report, which corroborated most of what he recalled.

“Is it done, then?” asked Anthony.

“Sandalphon is still out there. We will stay until he is arrested,” said angel Aziraphale. “I’m told he has access to your address.”

“Yeah, he owns the restaurant where I work. Well, worked, I guess. I’m not going back there.”

“Why do you work, anyway?” asked Crowley. “You’re not hurting. Obviously.”

“Family requires it to get the trust money.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Talking about that, I’d better call Mum and Dad to do some damage control," said Bee. "They’re going to wonder when this ends up all over the news. Hopefully, the media will respect your privacy and keep your name out of it.” 

They headed off to the living room which was quieter. Anthony stared into his coffee mug, then at the two who had saved him. He smiled. Aziraphale smiled broadly back while Crowley merely nodded with a ghost of one upon his face. The sounds of cooking still came from the kitchen behind him as he opened his mouth to speak. The question he was about to ask the two of them was interrupted by Dagon yelling at them as she held a carton of eggs she had fetched out of the cabinet. 

“You at the table! Who’s eating?”

She seemed surprised the answer was all three of them.

Heading back to young Aziraphale with the eggs, she muttered. “Huh. They drink tea and eat breakfast. I didn’t know their kind did that.”

“We live in this world. We might as well enjoy what it has to offer,” Crowley called after her.

“And demons have fantastic hearing. Why can’t I have fantastic hearing?”

“What was your question?” Aziraphale asked Anthony.

“Is my life just going to now be a series of events you two are going to have to get me out of? Because I’d honestly rather go back to the uneventful life I was leading.”

“I hope not.” Crowley miracled up his own cup of coffee, tasting it before waving a hand over it again. “I was rather enjoying my freedom. I don’t like the idea of having to run around saving you and the group here all the time. I already had to help save my own world.”

“We do not know the future, but we do hope that you and your beau can live in relative peace,” said Aziraphale with a smile.

That was as far as the conversation went. Before Anthony could respond, plates and forks were being laid on the table for people to grab by Dagon and Aziraphale brought over a large platter of scrambled eggs and hash browns while Dagon fetched teacups and Bee came back to help out by bringing over the kettle. Somehow the sugar and milk jug ended up on the table, the humans unsure if it was the result of some magic on the part of the immortals. It didn’t matter. What mattered was they were all able to sit down together like this after the past day’s harrowing experiences.


	22. Business as Usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The passage of a year finds the four friends in different places of their lives than they had anticipated. 
> 
> CW: I deal a bit with the trauma Anthony would have after experiencing such a violent act as his kidnapping. I did some research and gave him some symptoms I've found. This isn't something he's going to get over in a hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be a couple of more chapters after this. I don't know how many yet as they aren't written, but I do want to add a couple of more things to this before I wrap it up.

Sandy slung his packed suitcase in the boot of his Mercedes before getting into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys in his rush to get it started and escape the city before he was located. He failed to notice a major detail, namely the man occupying the passenger seat, sitting silently waiting. His light coat and hair very nearly blended in with the light beige of the leather seats and interior. Sandy startled when he turned to look out the rear window to back out of the driveway.

He yelped in surprise.

“Hello,” said the man. “Nice day to attempt escape, isn’t it? Were you going to use the Chunnel? Oh, pardon me . . . I forgot in this universe it’s simply the Tunnel.”

“Who are you? Chunnel? This universe?”

The man gave him the brightest of smiles. 

“None of that is important, really. What is important is that you’re going to stay right here until law enforcement comes.”

“The hell I am.”

Sandy sneered at him as his fingers reached for the door handle which remained stubbornly fixed. Jerking at it in a panic, he eventually looked at the man, mouth agape. He could hear the sirens in the background now as they became louder, coming closer to his home, and the car parked in front of it where he was trapped. His passenger didn’t seem at all concerned about being locked in a car with him. Odd, since Sandy could have him charged with trespassing, as petty as that was. 

“I’ll have to disagree with that assessment. You will not be leaving except with a police escort. Also, my partner has mentioned to me that you’re cursed to tell them all about your involvement in young Anthony Crowley’s disappearance.” He pulled a pocket watch out of his waistcoat’s pocket. “Well, I have been sitting here a while and I do have someone to get back to now that the police are here. Good day.”

The man disappeared and Sandy found his life was going to become more interesting once they opened the car door and asked him to exit the vehicle.

~*~*~

_A Month Later_

The night had been mostly quiet, something Aziraphale counted as a blessing these days. Anthony had holed up in the flat, not leaving for any reason, even therapy appointments. Finding a therapist who would agree to online sessions had been a challenge, but he had found one who had agreed. Bit by bit it was helping. Anthony had spent the last month on edge, fearing it could happen again and not accepting visits from family or friends. He would speak to Bee and Dagon on the phone, but no more than that. The same went for his parents. Aziraphale became his lifeline, finding himself thrust into the most important role of his life. 

There were times when Anthony would hide in bed, his mind frozen on that traumatic event as he denied it while simultaneously reliving it as he lay under the bed covers. It would be Aziraphale who would coax him out of the bedroom and into the shower where sometimes Anthony would have the strength to perform his morning routine alone, but other times he hadn’t the will to do more than undress and step into the spray. It would be up to Aziraphale to wash his hair and help him soap the rest of his body down. Other days getting him to eat would be a struggle. Or encouraging him to do more than huddle on the couch thinking about it. 

He stayed in touch with their guardian angel and demon through text messages to Crowley’s phone even though he had no idea how they had managed to get signals to work across dimensions. The other Aziraphale gave him advice; Crowley gave him snark, but it was snark that made him laugh, which was probably the point. Neither one could perform miracles to help out, though. Struggles of the mind and heart were part of the human experience, thus they were not allowed to interfere. But these two supernatural beings with powers and lifespans beyond imagination were willing to at least be there, even if to them, individual humans existed for the blink of an eye. It would hardly seem worth forging a friendship in human Aziraphale’s mind. But they did, anyway, and were another lifeline for him.

Still, even with the support of them, along with Dagon and Bee, something had to give. The job had had to go when Anthony needed him at home as much as possible to help him heal. Anthony had tried to talk him out of it, but Aziraphale wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I cannot leave uni this close to graduation, but you need someone here at least part-time. Hiring someone like you suggested is not going to go well for anyone involved. You have such a fear of strangers right now it will just set any progress you’ve made back.”

“But . . .”

“No, Anthony. I love you and I won’t hear of you saying you’re not worth it.”

It wasn’t like they were going to hurt for money. Anthony’s parents, now concerned for his mental well-being, freely gave him the trust fund money each month, and Aziraphale received a stipend for caring for him through some very hard times. Aziraphale knew Anthony had expected him to leave, walk out to move on to a life without such heavy burdens. No, Aziraphale was not going to give up on him so easily and what Anthony received instead was the support he needed and a stronger bond with Aziraphale. 

These were the thoughts that went through Aziraphale’s mind as he lay in bed with Anthony, listening to his quiet breathing. He slept lightly these days, one ear always alert for the whimpers that indicated the nightmares had begun again. Anthony had become restless tonight, awakening Aziraphale when he thrashed about the bed briefly. Thankfully it never manifested into dark dreams. A few soothing strokes of his hair had calmed him down. Right now, the little things were big victories.

~*~*~

_A Year Later_

Anthony looked at the vacant bookshop in Soho, smoking the last of his cigarette before stomping it out on the damp ground and throwing the dog-end in the nearby bin. He wasn’t smoking too much these days, usually only when his anxiety was getting to him. He had developed a severe case of it after the kidnapping. It was only within the past few months he had finally starting to get the emotional effects of his trauma under control. If he felt confident enough, he could go out by himself, but he still wasn’t completely healed and the journey to normalcy might last years or never truly end. Still, he was happy he had more weeks now where the good days outnumbered the bad.

Therapy had helped a lot along with medication and a lot of support from his friends, family and Aziraphale. Aziraphale had been infinitely patient with him, seeing him through many a bad time when he could do little more than huddle on the couch unable to even consider stepping outside the door. Some days had been worse, and it was Aziraphale who had been there to pick him up, even sacrificing his job to be at home more often - all this while finishing up his degree and maintaining good grades.

_Did you?_

The text came from across dimensions, a question from an angel and a demon who still kept in touch with them and occasionally stopped by for lunch.

 _Yep_ , Anthony texted back.

_Good. We both think he deserves it._

Palming the key in his hand, he strode across the street to unlock the bookshop’s door. He reached for the light switch, hoping his request to turn on the electricity had been processed. It had; the outdated fluorescent lights buzzed to life, illuminating empty shelves covered in dust. It would need a lot of work, but it was doable. The shop had sat unsold for almost a year, which Anthony saw as a sign. After discussing it with those closest to him, he called the number on the sign in the window, getting the whole process started. Two months later, here he was, standing inside his purchase, a graduation gift for Aziraphale. 

_Me, too_ , he texted back after taking in the view. _You’ll have to send me pics of Aziraphale’s._

_You don’t want to see the clutter he lives in._

Anthony laughed as he checked over the place one more time, resisting the urge to go up to the flat which held so many memories for him. It would probably overwhelm his delicate memory, and he had nobody there to help him if he got into trouble. Aziraphale was off at a job interview right now, hoping he’d get hired as an assistant librarian at a small university in a town outside of London, which was perfect since he had to take the train. Right now he wouldn’t dream of asking Anthony to drive him, even though Anthony would. He felt like he could handle such a thing. After all, here he was, buying property for Aziraphale. Smiling at the dusty mess before him, he turned off the lights and locked up the building again. He’d bring Aziraphale out here later when he got back from his interview. 

~*~*~

Bee and Dagon entered the house in Crystal Palace, Bee tossing their keys in a handy bowl on the table inside the door. It was cliché, but it kept Bee from constantly misplacing them. Closing the door before Cerberus got too excited and raced out into the front garden, Bee bent to give him a scratch while Dagon headed to their bedroom to take off the annoying leaf green dress she was wearing. She wasn’t a dress person, meaning they were for special occasions only. Secretly, Bee appreciated it on the rare occasions she wore them because Dagon had a great pair of legs.

“That was a nice ceremony,” Dagon called down the hall as Bee let Cerberus out into the back garden. 

They had attended the wedding of a former co-worker to the young woman he had been dating so long everyone had given up hope they would actually become engaged let alone set a wedding date. It was a nice day off in a time when those seemed rare. Bee and Dagon had a business to run now. Cheesecake Works had gone defunct thanks to Sandy’s legal troubles and Dagon had mentioned she would love to run a bakery someday. The admission came as a surprise to Bee, who had no clue her girlfriend liked to do more than bake the occasional batch of cookies or biscuits. She had gone to school for graphic design, not for culinary arts.

But together they came up with a business plan to open a café with a bakery, one that didn’t focus on cheesecake and American food, then pitched the idea to Bee’s parents, who decided it was worth investing in. They had started small with lunch hours only five days a week, a friend who had chef experience as their head chef, another chef fresh out of culinary school and a couple of wait staff. Bee covered what was needed if they were short-handed while Dagon did the baking.

It was working so far. Projections showed that if they hired a few more staff and opened up for dinner a few nights a week, they would see a modest increase in profits, enough to make it worth the effort. Slowly they would work their way up to a full-time gig. Hopefully one day, Anthony could come to see how well they were doing. The place had been completely renovated at their mother’s insistence. Maybe it would not bother him since it was now a completely different space. 

“Yes, it was. You know, later on, we should get into catering,” Bee replied.

Dagon reappeared, in her usual loose-fitting shirt and jeans combination and the two settled down on the living room couch with a couple of bottles of ale and their feet up on the coffee table. The sofa was a dark shade of brown, thanks to this house being too respectable to be decorated in any kind of goth style. It did lend itself to a nice contemporary look in the public spaces while the private ones suited their personal style more. They decided this was part of growing up. Suddenly they wanted the living room to look respectable for guests. 

“Ligur and Michael got married,” said Bee. “He called me asking if I wanted my half of the security deposit back. I told him to keep it. They seem such an odd couple, but whatever. Won’t affect me if they get divorced.”

Dagon raised her bottle in a toast. “For what it’s worth, I hope they make it. House with a garden. Couple of kids. Living the dream. Anthony and Aziraphale are heading that direction.”

“I don’t think so. Aziraphale would be good with kids. Anthony would buy them the latest game system and let that raise them.” Bee paused. “And he’d never allow a kid in the Bentley.”

“True. So, what are those two up to? Anthony been having a good week?”

“I believe so. He just bought Aziraphale a bookshop.”

Dagon’s ale shot from her mouth across the room. Bee, laughing, thumped her on the back until she stopped choking. 

“A bookshop?”

“The one he used to live above was still for sale, so my brother bought it. Aziraphale’s always wanted to open a bookshop.”

“Well, here’s to them making a go of it.” Dagon held out her bottle and Bee clinked their own against it. “Is there a ring involved with this, too?”

“No clue.”

Dagon briefly pondered making a bet with Bee on that, then decided against it. She knew it would happen here soon enough. No need to turn it into some kind of competition.

~*~*~

“If I get this job, I’m going to have to learn to drive or endure a two-hour one-way train ride to get to work each day. Then another one to get home,” said Aziraphale.

He was in the Bentley with Anthony, happy that his boyfriend wanted to get out and about this evening since he had spent the last week or so in the flat, but unusually busy on his phone and computer. Aziraphale figured he was texting Bee, Dagon or their two guardians, but wondered why all the activity online. Anthony had loved gaming before the kidnapping but had never got back into it afterwards, nor was social media particularly his thing.

“We can cross that bridge if you get the position. Let’s not worry about it for now.”

“Why are we back in my old neighbourhood, Anthony? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Anthony parked the Bentley across the street from the building and got out. He bent back down before closing the driver’s side door, smiling at Aziraphale.

“C’mon, angel. Come see.”

He shoved his hands in his tight jean pockets, shrugged his leather jacket around himself tighter and sauntered off across the street to the old bookshop, which looked rather forlorn in the soft light of the setting sun. Aziraphale trotted along behind, his heart both beating quickly with the thought that Anthony was experiencing a bad moment again and feeling as if it had been run through viewing a place he loved so much looking so abandoned. That little flat above the bookshop had never been much, but it meant a lot to him, and he was always sorry to see a bookshop close. He hadn’t had much money to spend there, but he doubted the small contribution he could have made with a bigger pay cheque would have amounted to much in the end.

“It’s just the old building where I lived when we first met.” Worried eyes looked Anthony up and down for signs of distress. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

Anthony turned to smile broadly at him now that Aziraphale had caught up, looking like he wanted to escort Anthony back to the car, convince him to drive home and make sure he took his medications. Anthony ran a hand through Aziraphale’s blond curls. 

“Here.”

He handed Aziraphale a keychain containing one key. Aziraphale took it, looking into Anthony’s golden eyes with confusion. 

“I don’t understand, love.”

“It’s yours.”

“What’s mine?”

“This. I bought the building. It’s yours to set up your dream bookshop in.”

Aziraphale clutched the keychain in disbelief.

“What?”

“I’m serious. Unlock the door.”

Aziraphale fitted the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door to the dusty bookshop Anthony inspected earlier. They entered, Aziraphale holding Anthony’s hand tightly. In silent shock he walked among the bookshelves, running fingers through the dust on them and thinking about how they would look full of books once again. Brushing off his hands, he looked over his shoulder at Anthony who had stayed back to allow him this time to look around.

“Anthony . . . you didn’t need to do this for me.”

Aziraphale caught him up in his embrace, burying his head in the crook where Anthony’s shoulder met his neck, wetting it with tears. Anthony stroked his hair.

“You deserve it.”

“But the bookshop here wasn’t able to make it.”

“The owner wasn’t very business savvy. I asked around since I do have connections. You’ll have me, angel. I have a nice degree and picked up a lot of business sense growing up. Besides, I managed to invest well enough to build up the money to buy this place outright without depending on trust money. I was quite proud of myself for that.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m never going to be able to repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

“Not keeping score here, Aziraphale. But if you must, I’d have never recovered as much as I have without you. So, call it even.”

The jingle coming from his phone had him stepping back from Aziraphale a moment before he pulled him in view of its screen. There was Crowley looking out at them with Aziraphale just over his shoulder smiling and waving furiously. Young Aziraphale laughed to see them.

“ _Congratulations_!” gushed the angel.

“Thank you!”

“ _You do know_ ,” said Crowley with a mischievous grin. “ _That he’s never going to sell a book_.”

~*~*~

_Two Months Later_

Aziraphale was getting ready to leave the bookshop after taking the bus over to inspect the work being done on the building. The shelves had been removed to receive a good renovation. They would come back with a new coat of stain and varnish. The carpet had been replaced, the wiring updated throughout the building and a new coat of paint just put on the walls yesterday. The main room smelled of it, Aziraphale wishing that he could open a window or two. He was alone here today, the work, except for the restoration on the bookshelves, done. 

He felt a buzz of excitement vibrate through him at the prospect of a shop filled with books and customers buying them. It was immediately followed by a sharp stab of cold apprehension. He was barely twenty-two, just graduated from uni and been gifted the chance of a lifetime by his very rich, very doting boyfriend. What did he do to deserve this?

And it wasn’t just the bookshop itself, it was _everything_. He and Anthony were getting lots of business advice from Anthony’s parents, who were thrilled Anthony was improving enough to feel ready to take on a business partnership. Aziraphale knew they liked him, as well, and were grateful for all he had done for Anthony over the past year. He half-expected them to one day ask when they were going to tie the knot. If Anthony ever asked, he would say yes, just as he told him months ago. 

Aziraphale himself wouldn’t ask Anthony. Not yet, anyway. Anthony was the one with the struggles to overcome and because of this, Aziraphale felt he needed to be the one to decide he was ready to handle an engagement and subsequent wedding. Aziraphale would wait as long as it took.

He walked to the backroom to look over the paint job there and move the covered roll-top desk in the centre of the room back against the wall where he wanted it. It slid easily across the tile, Aziraphale removing the sheet covering it just before he positioned it flush with the wall itself. His attention was caught by the large white secondary laying on the desktop plain as anything. Aziraphale smiled as he ran the tips of his fingers over it. 

“Thank you,” he said to the still air of the unoccupied shop, positive the angel would get the message. 

Rolling down the cover of the desk to conceal the impossibly large feather he would find an appropriate place for, he finished his inspection of the shop. The upstairs would wait until another day. Locking up, he walked down the block to the bus stop. One would be by soon to take him back to Mayfair where Anthony awaited his return.


	23. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, businesses are starting to take off, life further returns to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This tentatively looks to be twenty-five chapters.

_Six months later_

Aziraphale awoke to Demeter walking over him in her quest to get to the door. With a thump she jumped on the carpet as he rolled over to get himself back closer to Anthony, putting gentle hands on his partner’s trembling form. He knew it was going to be a long journey for Anthony and these last six months had seen improvement, but there were still a few nightmares and bad days they both had to pull through. Demeter passing through may have triggered another bad dream by catching his sleeping mind off-guard.

“I’m here, Anthony,” Aziraphale said softly. “Everything is all right. It was just the cat. I forgot to shut her out again. I apologise.”

“I’m awake. I’m awake.” Anthony patted him back clumsily. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

Anthony rolled over, scooting close to Aziraphale’s chest where he laid his head, slipping one leg between Aziraphale’s knees. “Too early.” He exhaled, the breath coming calm from his chest. “Want to sleep.”

The dream was forgotten, not having had the chance to take hold. Aziraphale relaxed. At least this time damage control was minimal and Anthony was not left waking up to a bad morning that would turn into a worse day. Aziraphale had just held the grand opening of the bookshop, meaning it was critical he was there for at least a few hours every day to attract customers. Without them, the whole venture would be in vain, but Anthony’s bad days could make that difficult. Bee helped out when they could and so did Anthony’s parents, although he was less inclined to accept them as an emergency call than the small group of friends he had cultivated. In a pinch, he could reach out across dimensions. 

“I can stay here until eight, but then I must get up and get ready to go open the bookshop.”

“’Kay. Love ya, ‘Ziraphale.”

“I love you, too.”

It seemed like no time at all before the alarm went off, prompting Aziraphale to smack it harder than he intended. Anthony was sprawled now on the other side of the bed not touching him. In a way that was good — Aziraphale could slip out of bed to go take a shower without disturbing him. If Anthony didn’t wake up in time, Aziraphale would take the bus to Soho and leave him a note saying when he’d be back. Anthony worried when he didn’t know Aziraphale’s return time. Aziraphale figured it was part of his mental battles and always made sure Anthony knew when he was coming home.

He got into the shower, turning the water up to the hot temperature he so enjoyed, letting it run over him for a good five minutes before he got on with his usual routine. He was halfway through rinsing the conditioner out of his curls — shampoo alone would not tame them — when he heard Anthony enter the bathroom. Turning to see him undressing outside the spray line of the open shower, Aziraphale smiled at him.

“Should have got me up. You need a ride.”

“I can take the bus. You were starting to have a nightmare, so I thought you’d appreciate a lie-in.”

“I do appreciate that, but remember? I need to be getting on a schedule to help get me back to normal. I want to start going in with you every day. I can do the bookwork, stock things, whatever you need. I can’t just be knocking around the flat all the time. It’s not good for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure, but my therapist says I need to get into a healthy routine to help my brain process the unexpected better. All those boring, predictable daily duties mean my brain has less to try to focus on as they become ingrained. So, as much as you’d like to go easy on me, you can’t any more.”

“All right. Get in the shower, then, before the water starts turning cold.”

Anthony slid in beside him, twisting the knobs to start the shower heads on the opposite side of the stall. “It won’t run out. I have a tankless water heater, remember? Hot water on demand.” He grinned like a young man in love with his luxury creature comforts.

“Spoilt brat.” 

“I could . . . spoil you.”

“Oh?”

Anthony ignored the water running down them while he kissed Aziraphale, opening his mouth to him, the act passionate and vulnerable in light of all that had happened in the past year and a half of healing. They hadn’t been physical that often since the kidnapping. First, Anthony had to get past the initial stages of healing then he still battled with feeling constantly on guard, jumpy and unable to relax which was not a combination for anything sexual. He needed closeness but was not ready for more than that for a long time. Aziraphale was patient with him, understanding how a physical assault followed by captivity, even if it was only for a brief time, could affect one’s mind. They went at Anthony’s pace, and often he had to lead to feel secure about it. 

But their relationship was about more than sex and while Aziraphale missed it at times, some things were more important than what they did in the bedroom. His connection with his other self helped, even though it meant he now possessed memories beyond what a human should, knowing what six thousand years of slow-burn looked like. The angel had been tremendous support at times, so much so, they had grown close. Closer than shielded minds could stop memory leakage, meaning experiences had blended. Thankfully not extremely private ones, but enough that young Aziraphale knew what the pomegranates in Eden tasted like and how it felt to fall in love with someone you were forbidden from being with.

It had the added effect of reminding him of his own mortality. He tried not to think about it too much, especially in light of his friendship with an immortal version of himself. But he had been assured that he possessed an undying soul as well as enough free will to choose his own fate after death.

“People go to Heaven or Hell because that’s what they imagine happens,” angel Aziraphale had said. “Whatever you believe in is really what happens to you after death. I’ve encountered those who must cross a desert to receive judgement. Those who are free now to travel the universe for eternity. And those whose souls simply perish because they don’t believe they have one. Find your belief, young Aziraphale, and you’ll be fine. Anthony is your soulmate. He will have the same belief. Our collective souls travel together, I have been told. Apparently, there is not a universe where we do not eventually find one another.”

Distractions about the hereafter aside, if he had to go through his own human version of the six-thousand-year slow burn, he would. Love meant patience. Although presently, love meant enjoying what Anthony was doing to him right now. He was on his knees before Aziraphale looking up at him through eyes the exact shade of molten gold — his own encounter with his immortal other self had not been without consequences for there was now no hazel left in his irises, only a metallic gold sheen not far off from the golden-yellow of Crowley’s eyes. Crowley had said it was due to the healing and something about leaving an imprint of himself on Anthony because of it, but neither of the young human beings quite understood what he meant by that.

Whatever had happened as the result of healing miracles, those beautiful eyes were about at waist level, gazing into Aziraphale’s own blue ones while a slim hand played with Aziraphale’s cock, making it hard with expert ease. Aziraphale felt it, warm and soft and wet, as skilful fingers stroked the shaft before concentrating some loving attention on the head. Aziraphale groaned softly, not denying to himself how much he missed feeling this. It had been a while, but he would never hurt Anthony’s feelings or invalidate his struggles by saying so out loud. He let him work, caressing his head with its dripping hair as the warm water poured over both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Anthony whispered.

“For what?”

“For ignoring your needs.”

“Don’t ever think that. Some things are more important.”

Anthony’s only answer was to replace his hand with his mouth, his tongue paused a moment as the tip of Aziraphale’s cock sat on it in the middle of his open mouth. It was a moment that seemed to freeze itself in Aziraphale’s mind — the loving look he received from Anthony as they engaged in the first oral sex they had had in over a year. For reasons unknown, Anthony had not been able to either give or receive. Now Aziraphale was certain he would never forget the adoring gaze of trust Anthony gave him before he took his cock in his mouth.

Aziraphale braced himself against the marble wall of the shower area, eyes closing for one brief moment before he returned to making eye contact with Anthony. Smiling at him, he stroked his cheek before Anthony pulled his entire cock in his mouth, sucking gently to get Aziraphale used to the sensation once again. The blond hummed his appreciation, his fingers flexing against the slick marble. His head was thrown back for a minute, the shower’s flow catching him momentarily in the face, the water running like tears down his round cheeks. In fact, he could have cried tears of happiness at this breakthrough, not just for his own selfish joy at getting oral sex. Anthony deserved to be able to give and receive affection in all forms, even physical ones.

He wasn’t going to last long against such wonderful feelings. They flowed through him, popping every so often like fireworks that exploded with each caress, nibble and lick. He could almost see their flower-like colours when he closed his eyes, something to rejoice in. He barely noticed the water. The cool smoothness of the marble wall ceased to register beneath his fingertips. His world shrunk to Anthony. 

“Oh!”

He felt Anthony reach around to squeeze his buttock in response, fingers lingering in a caress. A quick movement of Anthony’s head and he had Aziraphale’s entire cock in his mouth, tongue running along it before he started to suck on it for the express purpose of making Aziraphale come. In and out. Still skilled despite a year’s absence. Golden eyes looking up as he worked. Hand clenching against Aziraphale’s hip. The other one under Aziraphale’s balls, gently caressing.

“I can’t hold on much longer, my dear,” Aziraphale gasped.

Anthony was on his feet, pulling Aziraphale out of the shower area to an outdoor teak chair with waterproof cushions that sat nearby — a leftover piece of furniture from Anthony’s grandmother, who could then sit to dress when her arthritis was acting up. Pushing Aziraphale into it, Anthony reached for the lube on the vanity, coating Aziraphale as he asked silently to do more. Consent was given through kisses, passionate bites that spilt over on to his neck while he coated Aziraphale’s cock in the slick stuff before lowering himself on to it while moans rumbled through his chest. 

Aziraphale held him close, head against Anthony’s sternum where he could hear every breath and passionate vocalisation he made. He sat still, allowing Anthony to move as he needed to for his own pleasure. Instead, Aziraphale concentrated on touch, stroking his hands softly along Anthony’s sides and back as he felt Anthony’s tightness glide along his cock as he rocked his hips.

“There you go, my love. Just do what feels good. I’ll enjoy it no matter what, so concentrate on yourself.”

“’Kay.”

Anthony clung on tight, his nails biting into Aziraphale’s shoulders as he moved, in and out, rubbing Aziraphale’s cock against areas that gave him the most pleasure. Sometimes he faltered, his eyes glassing over momentarily as the sudden feeling of vulnerability struck him so hard that Aziraphale could sense it. Stroking his hair in a soothing manner, Aziraphale would bring him back, whispering sweet nothings with an encouraging smile across his face. Anthony would snap out of it, returning to the intimacy as if nothing had happened. This had happened before and Aziraphale had learned to take it in stride, letting it pass and not mentioning anything afterwards.

Anthony’s eyes closed, telling his partner he was near completion, but Aziraphale needed a little help getting closer himself. Closing his eyes, he concentrated solely on what was happening below his waist, the delicate vulnerable manoeuvring happening there. Taking his hands, he placed them on Anthony’s hips, guiding him, angling him so that Aziraphale could come, too. A loud moan from him told Aziraphale he had managed to get Anthony in a position that pleased them both. 

“Right there! Please, keep it going. Yes!”

Aziraphale yelled as he came, feeling Anthony’s physical climax spill onto his lap, warm and slippery as he shouted out as well, his hips rocking so hard the chair was in danger of tumbling over. Four hands clasped the armrests, white-knuckle tight, the chair’s legs scraping against the tile flooring before everything stilled, nothing moving but the clouds of steam from the shower that was left on. Anthony collapsed, sobbing, onto Aziraphale’s chest, where he received all the love he needed to get past the emotions. 

“It’s all right, Anthony. I’m here. I love you and you did wonderfully. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what’s important. We’ll get back to where we were. I know we will.”

It was a worry of Anthony’s that their relationship would never return to previous levels. Aziraphale worried at first with him, but after this, something in his heart told him they had just reached another milestone and everything was going to be okay. Sweaty, sticky and in need of a rinse, they sat together for a long time, ignoring the state of their own skins as well as the steamy air and sound of the empty shower as water splashed down onto the tile.

~*~*~

It was quiet right now at the bookshop for business came in spurts, and it was close to lunchtime. Shoppers and tourists were heading to the local restaurants where they would relax for an hour or two before returning to the variety of small shops to browse the merchandise offered. Aziraphale straightened up a few messes while Anthony did some bookwork. He was keeping track of daily sales for statistical purposes. It made Aziraphale nervous on account of it bringing the business into sharp detail, but he knew it was necessary to discover what was selling, what hours were the most productive and other such information that would help them improve services and keep their doors open. 

The bell above the door rang as someone entered. Aziraphale looked up with a smile to see Dagon with a large envelope approach him. She waved it at him, returning his smile with a grin of her own.

“I got the graphic design for the advertising done.”

“Oh! Thank you! Can I see it?”

She handed him the envelope. “Of course. I made it for you. Where’s Anthony?”

“In the backroom getting some business done.” Aziraphale slid the designs out of the envelope and looked them over. “Dagon, this is beautiful! I think it’ll do quite nicely. Thank you so much. I know you’re busy these days with the bakery.”

“It didn’t take that long and I want to keep my skills up. Graphic design can be a little side job. Just in case the restaurant gig goes belly up.”

“I don’t want to hear that.” Aziraphale slid the designs back in the envelope and placed it beside the till. “I saw you got rave reviews from quite a few of the local restaurant critics.”

The door to the backroom creaked open then slammed shut and Anthony’s boots could be heard clicking on the wooden floor until he appeared among the crowded bookshelves. Unlike his angel counterpart, Aziraphale had a smaller space to work with for now. He dreamed of one day moving to a bigger location while at the same time scolding himself for thinking such thoughts when they hadn’t been open six months yet. Their space would do for now. 

“Hey, Dagon. What do we owe you for the work?” he asked.

Dagon gave him a reasonable quote and Anthony pulled numerous bills out of his pocket, handing her a few of them while she muttered nobody should carry around such an obscene amount of cash.

“I brought it up from the backroom. I’m not about to get robbed, you know.” 

He noted the amount on a scrap of paper that was folded up with the remaining money and shoved back in his pocket. 

“Can you make us a reservation for tomorrow?”

Aziraphale’s heart leapt to hear that. They hadn’t been on a date in three weeks.

“Sure. I know we have a few spots at seven-thirty. A couple at eight.”

“Seven-thirty work? Do you mind closing a bit early just this once?”

“No, not at all,” said Aziraphale. “As long as it doesn’t become a habit. We still need to make a living.”

“Seven-thirty it is.”

Dagon pulled out her phone to note it in her memos. She’d get it on the schedule when she returned to the café. 

Meanwhile, Aziraphale wondered what the special occasion was. It was rare they went to Bee and Dagon’s restaurant. Anthony thought it best to not drop in too often, or it would appear they were checking up on them. Best that it remain a place they went as a treat. Now Aziraphale’s mind was going to be wandering to possible reasons to celebrate until dinner tomorrow.

~*~*~

“What are you doing back here?” hissed Bee, who was dressed nicely in a black suit with a subtle shade of red tie that matched the decor of the place. Even they decided to be classy when at work for the sake of success. “Shouldn’t you be out with your boyfriend?”

“I wanted to say hi,” said Anthony, who looked around the bar he was currently standing behind, dressed to the nines himself. “You’ve been so busy I haven’t seen you for weeks.”

“Yeah, and we’re closed Sunday for the holiday and are going to come over. Not like I’d never see you again. Something’s up. What are you up to?”

Anthony shrugged, the wavy red hair resting on his shoulders moving with the gesture.

“Bet he’s proposing,” piped up Dagon, who had come out with a tray full of dishes. “Get out of here, Anthony. I see a server coming to get something.”

Bee shoved him out as Dagon headed out to serve a table their orders. She often helped out when the servers got busy. Bee was not that great at table service, but they could tend the bar well. They were also curious if Dagon was right. Was Anthony proposing? They could see their brother’s table from here where Aziraphale was looking over the menu as Anthony slid back into his seat. It would be worth keeping an eye on them through dessert, just in case something exciting happened.

At the table, Anthony glared at his sibling before smiling at Aziraphale who had decided on appetisers. The place had evolved into a rather nice mid-priced restaurant that Bee and Dagon could be proud of. The casual cuisine they had started with had evolved into authentic English fare that was winning customers and generating them even more business. Anthony suspected they wouldn’t last long at the shopping centre and one day would be opening a place in Covent Garden or something. 

“So, what did you decide?” asked Dagon who had come over after unloading plates of perfectly cooked food on a hungry table of four. 

“The crab toast, the roasted duck leg and the Bakewell tart, please,” said Aziraphale.

“Your usual, Anthony?” 

“Yeah.”

He always got the roast quail and aioli, roasted pork and the Victoria sponge cake with raspberries. Dagon always made sure there was a piece for him if he and Aziraphale were coming to dine. It was the only dessert he would eat. Orders taken, she couldn’t hang around to find out what Anthony was up to. Hurrying off, she got their requests to the chef, telling him it was for Anthony and Aziraphale since he rather liked the two of them. He would make sure everything was cooked with a little extra care. Meanwhile, Bee made sure they had champagne chilled, just in case.

The two conversed about nothing in particular as they waited for their appetisers, flirted their way through the main course and about drove Bee and Dagon both mad as not a hint was made during dessert that this was anything more than just a date. Then Bee noticed from the bar that Anthony was leaning in towards Aziraphale, who was giving him, instead of his tart, his full attention. Was this it?

Anthony had eaten about half of his cake before he put down his fork to address Aziraphale, his face serious. 

“I’ve been thinking about our living arrangements.”

Aziraphale looked up, slightly afraid for the first time in a rather long time. He was halfway to getting another forkful of his tart when his hand paused at Anthony’s words, his blue eyes wide.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, cohabitation’s nice, but it seems like it might be a good idea to take the next step.” Anthony outright blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous hand. “I mean . . . if you want to. I know things haven’t been easy lately, and I hope now they’re getting better. But I want to marry you, Azira . . .”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” Anthony blinked in surprise, not expecting an answer before he finished the question.

“Yes!”

At the bar, Bee simply handed two champagne flutes to Dagon then followed her to the table with a bottle of their best champagne. A movement caused Bee to cast a look over their shoulder as they walked where they saw Crowley leaning against a wall unseen by the customers. Beside him, Aziraphale beamed happily, hands clasped over his chest. The demon gave a jaunty salute while the angel waved before both disappeared again back to their home universe.


	24. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony would rather the wedding was private. Aziraphale understands the need to placate family. Compromises will have to be made.

“Don’t worry, Mum. We’ll be able to handle it all. If we can’t, you know I will give you a ring to let you know we need help,” Aziraphale said into his phone as he sat at the kitchen table perusing wedding magazines for floral ideas. “Yes, I’ll tell Anthony you said hello . . . all right . . . I’ll talk to you this weekend . . . Bye.”

His parents had been thrilled to hear about his engagement to Anthony, making a trip over last week to congratulate the two of them. It had been nice to see them for a couple of days because Aziraphale had not had a chance to visit for a few months. His parents didn’t travel much ever since his father had fallen last winter on some ice and broken an ankle. It still bothered him six months later thanks to nerve damage, but he was in physical therapy to help with the pain, which was helping immensely. He would probably have minor chronic pain in it. Still, that was controllable by medications and exercises. 

Aziraphale worried about his parents. They were in their sixties now since he was born later in their lives. His father, on the other hand, shrugged it off as part of life and said he’d be back to normal soon. Aziraphale had that flat above the bookshop that he had never bothered to rent out. He had pondered suggesting they could move here to London where he could look in on them once in a while. He was the only child they had to care for them if their health started to deteriorate. Plus, it would be nice to have family around. He envied Anthony for having his close.

“Shall red be one of our wedding colours?”

Anthony had just walked into the kitchen, phone in hand as he read some article or another on one of his news sites. He looked up at Aziraphale, confused for a moment until his brain caught up with the question posed to him. 

“Isn’t red more of a winter colour?”

“I really don’t know. Maybe a brighter red rather than a burgundy?”

“I’d be happy just going to the registrar with Dagon and Bee to sign paperwork.”

Anthony sat down at the table to peer at the magazines open before Aziraphale. He picked one up to flip through, turning to a section on table centrepieces and wondered why there was such a fuss over weddings. He really had no use for such pomp. 

“I know, but our families really want some kind of celebration after all that’s happened.”

“I kind of wish we hadn’t have had to tell them.”

“You went through a lot, so it would have been noticed. Besides, it was all over the news.”

“Yeah, that happens when your parents are important and rich. If I was poor and inconsequential, it wouldn’t have been noticed. Where’s the justice?”

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile. “I know, my dear. None of that was easy for you, but we’re moving forward now. Let’s concentrate on the good.”

“Grey and light blue. Dagon and Bee both said they’d wear dresses. They can be in light blue ones while we’re in grey suits with blue ties. Grey for my aesthetic; blue for your eyes.”

“Oh, Anthony! That sounds perfect!”

Anthony rolled his eyes and knew he was going to be accused of being romantic again. He pushed forward before that could happen. Pointing to a bouquet of yellow and white roses, he got Aziraphale’s attention again.

“We could mix it with a nice yellow to give the flowers some variety. There isn’t much blue out there in the plant world. They use blue light for energy rather than reflect it. But there are hydrangeas. A few varieties of lily and orchid are easily dyed. Mix them with white and yellow for an accent colour, and we’ll be set. It’s not like we need bouquets. It’s enough we got our witnesses to agree to matching outfits since Dagon doesn’t care for suits. Maybe a few flowers along the aisle and a couple of bouquets up where we’re getting married.”

They had decided upon a hotel for two reasons — neither one of them was particularly religious and there was one guest they wanted to invite who didn’t do well with churches. They were sure he and his partner would stand unseen in the back, but at least they could be there if they chose to show up. 

“We’re getting married.” Aziraphale gave a giddy smile. “We’re really getting married.”

“That we are, angel.”

Aziraphale was out of his chair, coming over to climb into Anthony’s lap, his soft belly bumping against Anthony’s. Anthony leaned forward, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder while he felt the warmth of his angel’s love physically pass into him. He didn’t know how he would have survived the last nearly two years without him. Reaching out, he lipped along Aziraphale’s neck, leaving kisses from below his ear to his Adam’s apple. Aziraphale’s pleased hum vibrated through his lips. 

“Do that on your own time, not mine.” 

That sarcastic voice was very familiar. Anthony pulled away from Aziraphale’s neck with a quiet frustrated groan.

“Hello, Crowley. How are you? Is A.Z. here, too?”

“He’s in the living room trying to avoid viewing anything intimate,” replied Crowley before calling louder. “As if he hasn’t engaged in such activities himself.”

Young Aziraphale blushed as he climbed off Anthony and greeted Crowley. 

“I’ll go put the kettle on.”

“We brought something better.” Crowley held up a rather expensive bottle of champagne. “Now go into the living room. The angel’s dying to congratulate you two.”

Young Aziraphale walked into the living room, approaching angel Aziraphale, who grabbed his hands up in his own and gushed about the engagement. The other two got the champagne ready, pouring four glasses that sat on the coffee table while the two blonds talked excitedly. Crowley smirked at Anthony.

“They’ll talk non-stop about flowers and wedding colours if we let them.”

Anthony shrugged with his own smile. “Whatever makes the Aziraphales happy, am I right?”

“Yeah, you got me there.” Crowley cleared his throat loud enough to get the attention of the two in question. “Are you ready?”

Glasses were grabbed and champagne drunk in celebration. Crowley simply seemed happy for them. Angel Aziraphale seem particularly interested in the specifics of the ceremony. Young Aziraphale was happy to oblige him. Anthony suspected something was up. He put his empty champagne flute on the table and lightly elbowed Crowley, whom he was sitting next to. 

“What’s A.Z. want?”

“To officiate the wedding.”

“Why doesn’t he just ask?”

“You know how it is.”

Anthony nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Very well. I’m surprised you’re not hinting at him to come out with it.”

“Sometimes it’s just fun watching him beat around the bush.”

Anthony quietly laughed behind his hand. The Aziraphales stared at him, anyway despite his attempt to keep it quiet.

“Can’t put you two together,” said angel Aziraphale. “What are you planning now? You’re not taking him to go steal stop signs again.”

“We’re just discussing some wedding things,” replied Crowley. “Like how you should just ask.”

Young Aziraphale looked at him. “Ask what?”

The angel blushed a deeper red than the collar of his partner’s jacket. “I . . . I just wanted to officiate you and Anthony’s wedding. Just a selfish little wish, really.”

“Really? I’d love you to if Anthony agrees as well.”

“Like I’m going to say no.”

“Well, that’s settled,” said angel Aziraphale, a bright smile on his face as he wiggled happily. “I’ll have to disguise myself a bit, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Just don’t expect me to play the organ or anything,” said Crowley. 

~*~*~

“What are you two doing here?” hissed Bee quietly as she approached the angel and the demon who had been seated over by the windows.

“We just thought we’d try your restaurant, that’s all,” said Aziraphale, smiling apologetically. “We’ve been told you’re quite the success.”

“Don’t you have restaurants in your own universe?” Bee was nervous about being able to cook to their standards. They knew where those two lunched and her little café couldn’t hold a candle to the Ritz.

“Yeah, but the employees don’t yell at us there,” said Crowley. “That takes some fun out of it.”

Bee handed them menus and tried to stalk off, but Crowley grabbed their arm. Bee yanked it out of his grasp, annoyed.

“What?”

“I’ve been roped into being part of the wedding party. If you want to wear a tux you can. I have no problem wearing a dress.”

“Really? But you’re male, and I’ve only seen you dress masculine.”

“I’m genderless. Technically sexless, too, but . . . you know . . . I make an effort . . . and we’re going to have to disguise ourselves. I’ll just show up female.”

Bee gave him a wary look, then glanced over at Aziraphale. “You too?”

“Oh, yes. But I tend to be comfortable in a male-presenting body. Crowley’s the one who switches gender a lot.”

“God, you two are odd. Do you know that?”

“No, we’re simply not human,” said Crowley. 

“Okay. Fine. You can wear the dress. Now you’ll have to excuse me, I have a business to run. I or someone else will be back to take your order.”

“Can you bring back a wine list, please?” Aziraphale called after them.

~*~*~

This was the third hotel to possibly hold the wedding they were touring, following a cheerful young woman to a banquet room that Crowley swore was bigger than his outrageous flat. The carpet was an odd mixture of cream and blue swirls and a large glass chandelier hung from the ceiling with matching sconces along the walls. It was currently set up for a wedding — white rattan chairs with cream cushions lined up on either side of an aisle, coral bows tied on the ones nearest said aisle. Up at the front, there was a gold arch whose posts were wrapped in the same coral ribbon on the chairs, waiting there until morning when the florist would show up to cover the rest of it with flowers. Candles stood on either side with empty white pedestals for bouquets. 

“This is the larger of the two rooms we have weddings in,” the young woman was saying.

Anthony clung to Aziraphale’s hand as she talked, boasting the amenities of the hotel, touting the advantages of one-venue weddings and other such things that Anthony wasn’t at all listening to. He kept eyeing the room thinking it was too big. They were only inviting about thirty to fifty people, mostly extended relatives like aunts, uncles and cousins. Aziraphale wanted his childhood friends there and Anthony really didn’t have anyone he wanted to invite except Bee, Dagon and the immortals. His parents gently persuaded him to invite family if only to keep a feud from breaking out.

“It’s so large,” he said.

“We can cut it down. We do have a portable dividing wall that halves the space. In fact, you can have your ceremony set up in one half and your reception in the other. We do have the finest kitchens with a four-star rating. One-venue weddings are becoming a trend. No travel time for guests. No having to search out two different places for your ceremony and reception. Less expense on renting space.”

“That sounds like a clever idea,” said Aziraphale before Anthony could start up again about how he really didn’t want a reception. “We’ll have to think about the one-venue . . . um . . . thing, won’t we?”

His eyes pleaded with Anthony to not get sardonic about the situation right now. They had two more venues to look at later in the week; he couldn’t sour on them now. Anthony pushed his long hair out of his face, nodding sullenly.

“Yes, we will.”

They endured the rest of the tour, Aziraphale thanking their guide as she handed him pamphlets while they left the hotel. Walking down the stairs, they headed to the Bentley parked in the hotel’s nearby car park. Getting in, Anthony sat at the steering wheel a moment silently. He didn’t make a move to start the car. Aziraphale waiting patiently for him to reset himself. 

“I want to get married at home. In the plant room.”

The plant room should have been a formal sitting room, but Anthony’s grandmother loved her houseplants. He had inherited that love after she spent hours teaching him everything she knew about horticulture. His demonic other self may have yelled at his to keep them green and growing, but Anthony put a lot of time and care into keeping his healthy. The room was filled with beautiful specimens that he had kept alive on his grandmother’s knowledge and outright stubbornness in some cases. They, along with the Bentley, were his pride and joy.

“I know. But there are just some things we have to do for family.”

“Screw family. I see these people like once every five years. Usually when someone dies or gets married. All the cousins have grown up and moved on with our lives. We’re the accessible rich branch of the family since my dad’s older brother decided to go into academics and his younger sister is a professional horse trainer. Some of my family are good people. Some just want a chance to curry favour so maybe they can get themselves or a son or daughter a cushy office job with my parents’ company.”

“I can see how that can be a problem.”

Aziraphale came from a middle-class family with no influence. His friends were his friends because they wanted to be, not because he had money. His relatives genuinely liked his company; they didn’t fake it because they might have something to gain by being nice. What was it like to not be able to take even your own family members at face value? Money might solve a lot of problems, but too much of it seemed to create even more.

Anthony started the Bentley and drove them towards home. 

“What do you think?”

“I think we could do a private ceremony in the plant room. A.Z. can officiate, and I’m sure he can make it official with a bit of magic. Then we have a reception for family. Does that sound a little more bearable than having to deal with crowds at the ceremony and reception?”

“That might work. I just don’t want to have to deal with people I barely socialise with.”

Aziraphale reached over to lay a hand on Anthony’s knee. “I think between our two guest lists, we’ll have less than fifty people at the reception. That’s not too bad.”

“I guess not.”

“Sometimes we just have to do things that are less than appealing, and you know that.”

Anthony sighed then was silent the rest of the trip home. When they got to the flat, he fled to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Aziraphale let him be, settling in with a book he had bought and was thinking of carrying in the bookshop if he liked it. Bee and Dagon were coming over after their shifts. It was best to let Anthony cool off before they arrived.

Eventually, he came out, walking into the living room to sit on the couch with his phone. Aziraphale smiled at him.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“What do you want me to make?”

“Dunno. Maybe just a sandwich for now.”

“That sounds good. We have some roast beef and watercress in the fridge.”

Aziraphale marked his place and went to make a couple of sandwiches. As he dug through the fridge for the ingredients, he wondered if he was expecting too much of Anthony. Their wedding was their day, after all. Did they really need to share it with everyone if he didn’t want to? The thought carried him through piling the toppings on before placing the top piece of bread. It was a hard balancing act, that was for sure. Anthony could not be completely selfish with everything. A compromise was needed and a small reception wouldn’t hurt too much, he hoped.

“Anthony!” he called. “It’s on the table!”

They sat down together, Anthony thanking him for the sandwich, which he ate half of before speaking again.

“Do we have to do a reception?”

“Pretty much. Some parts about getting married are for people to celebrate with you. The ceremony and honeymoon can be ours alone, but I think the reception needs to be a compromise.”

“I guess I can do this.”

“You can. I have complete faith in you.”

Anthony smiled at him. He half-looked like he was drowning and half-looking like he wanted so badly for everything to go as expected. It had been a long time since anything had brought on enough stress to cause Anthony problems, but Aziraphale was not surprised that it was happening with the wedding. It would just mean taking it one day at a time. This kind of thing was to be expected. They would get through it.

Anthony blushed. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe you do and maybe you don’t. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

“Yeah, I am now. Are you done yet?”

Aziraphale gestured to his plate. “I still have sandwich left, Anthony.”

“Well, hurry up and finish it. It’s been a while since I’ve drawn a bath for you and I bought some new bath bombs that I thought you’d like. They’re a vanilla-lavender scent.”

Aziraphale didn’t need to finish his sandwich after that. It was much more tempting to accompany Anthony to the bathroom. When he smelled the new bath bombs on the steamy air, he was glad he took Anthony up on his offer. Especially since he didn’t need to bathe alone. 

~*~*~

They ended up going to a late film together followed by returning to the empty dark bookshop to sit around the table in the backroom drinking a few shots of the scotch Anthony kept there for reasons of his own. Bee wasn’t holding their liquor well, not being used to good expensive scotch. They were more inclined to have a beer or two after work than anything hard. Dagon herself was only marginally holding it together better, only giggling occasionally like someone who couldn’t hold their liquor. 

Bee pointed drunkenly at both Aziraphale and Anthony.

“You’d better tell your other selves to stay out of my restaurant.”

“You know we can’t make them listen,” said Aziraphale, who had been nursing his tumbler of scotch and was the least drunk of them. “A.Z.’s officiating our wedding, you know. It is a real honour, but even if it wasn’t I wouldn’t have felt right telling him no.”

“Don’t let him write the vows,” muttered Dagon.

“You’re getting married by a goddamn angel,” slurred Bee. “How do you two manage?”

“Pure luck or something,” Anthony replied. His voice was muted because his head lay on one arm he had spread before him on the table. The other clutched his glass. “And I doubt A.Z. is damned. That would be Crowley.”

“Picked a venue yet?” asked Dagon.

“No, we’re still looking.” Aziraphale rose to collect the decanter and put it back on the shelf. “And I think that’s enough. We need to be sobering up now so we can drive home.”

“When are you two getting married? You practically are any more. Might as well sign the paper,” said Anthony, glaring at Aziraphale for taking the alcohol away.

Bee and Dagon looked at each other, suddenly feeling a lot soberer. Anthony smiled as he peered over his arm watching their awkwardness. Aziraphale just wished he had kept his mouth shut about such things. One big event at a time.

Bee cleared their throat. “We’re not. We discussed it, and we’re happy with the way things are.”

“We might end up divorced, then there’s a big custody battle over Cerberus and all that. I rather like our dishes. Might want to keep them, but you know how property divisions go,” joked Dagon.

Bee shook their head and finished what was left in their glass. Stumbling to the sink, they set it there to get washed later. “And Crowley’s showing up in a frock, he said.”

“Devil with a blue dress on,” muttered Dagon.

“And?” asked Anthony. “I wish you could see my second-hand memories. He switches gender and sex quite often. Life would be easier for trans people if they could just shape-shift new genitals as those two can. I can’t imagine what their sex life is like.”

“Anthony!” scolded Aziraphale. “It is wonderful they want to be involved. They could have gone back to being aloof after the rescue.”

“Oh yeah . . . we didn’t tell you. The ceremony’s going to be private and the reception’s what we’re all going to invite people to.” Anthony paused. “Going to invite all the people to. I think.”

“Mum and Dad will have a fit if they don’t get to see you get married.”

“You two, the angel, the demon and our parents. That’s it. In the plant room.”

“In the plant room?”

“It’s big enough for a small ceremony. Leave me alone.”

Dagon shrugged at Aziraphale, who rolled his eyes at the sibling bickering. Finally, he stood up, left the room and returned with a long black box. Setting it on the table, he looked around at the other three.

“A few rounds of Cards Against Humanity as we sober up?”

The other three agreed and Aziraphale broke open the game. Anthony dealt out white cards, and they all looked at each other over them, none speaking a word. Aziraphale sighed as he picked up a black card.

“I’ll just start as Card Czar, and we can go clockwise. We don’t need to get into more arguments about the stupid way we’re supposed to choose the first one.”

“Oh, come on, Aziraphale. You just don’t want to admit you have no desire to discuss bathroom habits,” said Anthony as Aziraphale turned a bright shade of red. 

Cheeks burning he slapped down the first black card, reading “What are those whales singing about?” It didn’t take long for three white cards to be thrown on the table for him to judge. Flipping over the cards, Aziraphale prepared to have a good laugh at the ridiculous answers he read on them. And that was how they spend the next two hours — laughing, joking and enjoying each other’s company over a horrible card game. 


End file.
